Avengers Assembled
by HeatseekerX51
Summary: This is one of many precursor stories in the Godzilla/Marvel saga. The origin of how the Avengers came to be, what brought them together, and what nearly got them torn apart. See how Iron Man, Thor, Hawkeye, Black Widow, Wasp, Ant-Man, Captain America, and the Hulk became Earth's Mightiest Heroes.
1. Prologue: November Chill

Avengers Assembled

 **NEW YORK CITY,**

 **21:34 HOURS, NOV 29**

 **APPROX. 6 MONTHS BEFORE INCURSION**

The sharp chill in the autumn night air sent many a denizen of the boroughs hurrying from one destination to another. Some were just trying to get home from work; others were just beginning their twilight endeavors. Most had third shift jobs, some had professions best left out of the daylight.

A brazen few however were positioning themselves to prey on their fellow man. A pair of such men in Harlem waited in an idling car outside of a known local hub for narcotic distribution and whores. Not that drugs and sex were the sole services available, but they did keep the customer base regular.

The men sat in the darkness under a broken streetlamp, their hard faces would leave no-one questioning the nature of their occupations. Both were in their mid-thirties, close-cropped hair, bronze-skinned Hispanics, hoodies and denim jackets keeping them just warm enough. Neither however flinched as they kept a vigil on the alley entrance to the den of poison.

Down the block, a pair of rugged black boots stepped out of a dive bar, carrying their master at a measured pace.

The man in the driver seat took a drag of his cigarette, never taking his gaze away from his target even as the smoke obscured the already shadowy environment. The man in the passenger seat put his hands to his mouth, blowing warm breath to keep them from freezing.

The metal door to the building swung open, and a gangly black man with short dreads semi-stumbled out. Dressed in a flashy suit pants and jacket over a wrinkled white t-shirt, he was obvious to the wolves about to pounce. The man in the passenger seat turned and nodded to his accomplice, who gave one in return. The exit door slammed shut behind the target as he strode towards the opposite alley opening. The predators swiftly exited the car.

Not far away, the same black boots continued at a steady stride, neither hurrying nor slacking.

"Where's the money you owe Hector _kabron_?!"

The man from the driver's seat landed a kick to the ribs of the downed victim, whose arms were clutched feebly to protect his vital organs. The passenger sent a kick of his own into the man's groin.

"He's tired of you ducking him Marcus!"

"I can get his money!" The man cried, spittle's of blood misting from between his teeth, "I just need- _HACK/wheeze-_ I just need a few more days man!"

"You don't get sh*t _puto_!" The passenger yelled, unafraid that any witness might hear him.

Another volley of kicks forced Marcus to turn away towards the ground, several ribs broken, organs ruptured, the cocaine in his system not doing enough to dull the pain. He groaned.

"Man _coger e esta_ , he ain't got nothing' on him" one of the gangsters said with scorn, "We take him back to his crib and grab what we can get there."

They each grabbed an arm, intent to drag Marcus back to their car.

"No, no, no, no…." Marcus mumbled weakly, thinking of the fate that awaited him before the night was through. His head hung limply, despair weighing it down like a yoke. He saw nothing of the pair of boots that approached the trio.

"Who the F-"

A soft impact sound cut-off one of the abductors, and Marcus felt his left arm released. He collapsed to the ground as his other arm dropped, hearing the sounds of a scuffle, and something heavy hitting the pavement next to him, rocking back and forth, making pitiful whimpers. The commotion was over as quickly as it began, a loud snap followed by a short scream of agony, another soft impact, then just gurgling. The second body fell backwards to the ground, twitching slightly, but no longer making attractive noises.

By now it was the fear of whoever this new actor was that kept Marcus' head pinned to the asphalt. He heard the body to his left being picked up, over the objections of the person. The sickening sound of a fist slamming into flesh was exaggerated by the crunch of the facial bones giving way. The body fell back down, and Marcus was terrified to look at it.

A few tense moments passed without any movement, just the steady calm breathing of his rescuer.

"Marcus Lutrell?" Asked the emotionless gravely voice.

Marcus hesitated another moment, perhaps this was someone working for the Kingpin, protecting one of his many street-level distributors.

"Yeah?"

"Marcus 'Strings' Lutrell?" The stranger asked again.

Only people who knew him personally called him 'Strings', which meant that whoever this was, they were sent either by his friends or the people he worked for. He allowed himself to smile as best he could, the sudden relief he felt giving his arms their strength back.

"Yeah man, yeah that's me. I thought those muthafukkas was gonna kill me!"

Marcus got his hands underneath himself, and started to push up off the ground.

"Ashley Aperlo." Came the man.

Confused by the seemingly random statement, the pain in his legs and abdomen distracted his focus.

"Who-what?"

"Ashley Aperlo, 19 years old, from upstate. Came to the city for college, until you got her hooked on coke. Then when she ran out of money, you forced her into prostitution."

Suddenly the face of the girl came to the fore of his memory, Marcus had met the timid brunette at a party, and from there he got her wrapped around his finger. The confusion and anxiety mounting by the heartbeat, Marcus put his remaining strength into his effort to get up. He reached out and grabbed the stranger's belt, using it to pull his body upright.

"Man who are you?"

The image that met him caused his eyes to widen in stark terror. The white death's-head borne against the man's black shirt was known and feared throughout the criminal world. His voice had left him, and all Marcus could do was stammer open-mouthed. Spider-Man would rough you up and leave you in a web for the cops. Daredevil might break a bone or two, but leave you able to walk someday. The man before him had no such mercy, and left nothing but death in his wake.

Marcus's head was wrenched back, the man's left hand getting firm purchase in his dreads. With the rest of his body otherwise too hurt to fight back, he knew that he was powerless. The darkness of the alley put half of the man's face in the shadow, but his eyes, black as pitch, reflected a tiny gleam. The rough stubble along his jaw line and wrinkles around the corners of his eye gave him the specter of a person who took everything in life with the utmost seriousness.

"When her brother came around looking for her, you stabbed him and left him for dead."

Still the man's voice betrayed no hint of sentiment, but in his intoxicated state, Marcus got the feeling that a carnivore was peering down at him, breathing down his neck, fangs just inches away.

Marcus finally found the nerve to speak, panting to get breath back in his lungs; "Yeah, yeah, I know da bitch."

The grip on his hair tightened, the skin stretching to the point Marcus thought it might tear.

"Where is the girl?" The man in black hissed, the breath of his voice turning to steam in the late autumn chill.

Marcus felt his heart trying to beat out of his chest, and said the only thing he thought might save his life, which incidentally, happened to be the truth.

"She's in there man!" he cried, jerking his left hand back towards the door he had exited only minutes ago.

"If you are lying to me-"

"She's in there man, I swear!"

When the man took a glance over to the door, his long black coat shifted in the breeze.

Feeling like he just might get off with his life, Marcus got the idea to bargain with the arbiter of his fate.

"Look man, I get her brother wants revenge, I do and-"

The man in black's attention returned to Marcus with an abrupt turn of the head, and somehow the darkness around him seemed to grow and intensify as he gazed down. Marcus' voice stuck in his throat, enthralled not by a mortal man, but a living nightmare, a figure that made murders and rapists wake-up in a cold sweat.

"This isn't revenge." The words hanging in the air like an axe about to drop.

Marcus felt the hand on his head change places, the palm now resting across his forehead.

"No…no man…" he pleaded, the fingers gripping tighter into his skull.

"This is punishment."

The feeling of having his head forced down, his neck snapping and bent over backwards was indescribable. But as Marcus felt himself unable to breath, his throat closed like a pinched hose, he realized a bullet, or even a knife would have been much more welcome.

His body slowly fell to the left, the damaged nervous system causing his limbs to spasm and jerk.

The man in black watched him twitch for a second, analyzing his handiwork. His eyes narrowed; satisfied that yet another example of the worst of human filth was returned all the misery and suffering he had created.

The door had a large metal plate overlaying the locking mechanism. Producing a crowbar from the inside of his long-coat, the shadowed man jammed its straight end between the plate and the frame, and with a grunt, forced the door open.

He allowed the door to swing open on its own, stepping onto the threshold but going no further. There was no light, and standing there in the dark he listened to the sounds of the building, the creaks on the floor, the tone of several voices in varying states of distress and laughter. He could smell the expected, urine, spoiled food, tobacco smoke, the rancid stink of narcotics soaked into the walls.

He could taste the depravity and corruption on his lips.

Venturing inside, he reached back and pulled the door closed.

A wind swept through the alley, taking bits of newspaper in its midst. The lapels of the three men on the ground wavering slightly.

A woman's scream rang out from inside the building, and the cracks of gunfire were matched by flashes of light in the windows.


	2. Chapter 1: Puny Men, Hot Pursuit

The night only got colder as the wind howled among the skyscrapers. Hovering above the city that never sleeps cloaked from vision, was the roving headquarters of the International peacekeeping organization.

 **SHIELD HELICARRIER,**

 **2140 HOURS, NOV 29**

 **2008**

The birds-eye view of the alley, and the unmoving forms of the three men, data windows appearing to display information about them, and their criminal histories.

"He's brutal…"

Eyeing the monitor, Maria Hill looked down to the work station, her expression one of unease, but respect. Beside her, the Director of SHIELD Nick Fury stood with crossed arms.

"That's what he's good at." he said with a hint of admiration.

"You enjoy watching that psycho Sir?" She asked him incredulously.

"As long as he stays out of our purview. I like to think we work from the top down, and he works from the bottom up. Besides, he's useful from time to time."

Maria raised an eyebrow, curious about the story behind such a remark. Fury spared her a teasing smirk, maybe one day he'd tell her.

"Come on Hill, can't spend your first day on my team watching the damn TV."

Fury turned and led her along an isle between rows of agents monitoring their individual stations. The hustle and bustle of the two story tall chamber continued on as dozens more agents went about their business as usual of keeping tabs on the world's most wanted.

"Sorry to pull you away from your family during the holiday weekend, but intercontinental villainy never takes a long weekend, and neither do we."

Following her new boss down a flight of stairs, she smiled to herself "Not a problem Sir, I was actually hoping to get started as soon as possible."

At the foot of the stairs Director Fury came to a stop in front of a door, and began entering a passcode. "Oh that's good, like the work ethic. But before we get to any of the good stuff.." The last number punched, the mechanism beeped, and the door slid open sideways. "We got a few final briefs I gotta talk you through."

The pair entered the small room, which was not much more than a single round table under a hanging light, two swivel chairs, and a flat screen monitor attached by a crane to the wall. Resting on the table several file folders were laid out, each of them with a picture of an Avenger attached to the cover.

As Maria entered the room, she stepped to the right as her new boos stepped to the left around the table. She inspected the dossiers with a passing glance, curious as to why the director of SHIELD would need to give her a private instruction on the world-famous superheroes. But then she realized that the pictures were ones she'd never seen before, like they were taken candidly from concealed positions. Indeed, she recognized the shot style, having been on her share of recon missions.

"What do you know about the Avengers, Hill?"

The question was almost comical to her, for a few years now the world had been star-struck by a WW2 icon, a genius who makes robot suits to fight evil, and a literal Norse god. There was also the mutant turned fashion model, her size-changing scientist fiancée, and a duo of super-spies. Oh, and there was the green guy.

"Team of variously powered individuals, have a tendency to beat-up bad guys?"

"More or less…" Fury admitted as they each took a seat, "But do you know the story behind their creation?"

Using a finger to spin one of the folders around, she looked at the picture of Steve Rogers, known better to millions as Captain America.

"Not much more than the average SHIELD agent I suspect, came together to save Los Angeles from being destroyed, decided they liked the gig. Kinda got man-handled by Doom though."

Fury chuckled lightly, taking a small rectangular electronic device from his jacket pocket. He used it to turn on the monitor, where a flowchart appeared highlight several incident reports.

"If you're gonna be in my inner circle Hill, there's a few things you need to be brought up to speed on. The most important of which, involves the Avengers."

 **GREAT BASIN DESERT,**

 **1349 HOURS**

 **APRIL 2004**

A horned lizard scurried its way along the ridge of sand-dunes, like any animal its size, predators and peril could lurk around and corner. High in the sky the sun baked the land, and on the cloudless day, it was almost blinding as the light reflected off the grit.

The lizard paused, jerking its head in tight movements to scan for danger. But as the sound of a bellowing roar grew closer and louder, it quickly darted off to safety.

Exactly where the lizard was been standing, two green feet the width of industrial tires slammed down, cratering the sand into a pit. When the haze of dust settled, The Incredible Hulk glanced over his shoulder, growled, then jumped off again, his torn blue pants buffeting in the wind.

"Target is still on the move."

Banking low over the desert plains, three specially designed armored helicopters followed the leaping gamma-powered goliath in hot pursuit. Each of them bore the red shield of the Hulkbusters unit, a pale green capitol 'H' cut down the center with a lightning bolt. The rotors running near-silently due to the stealth tech incorporated for the specific purpose of catching their target unawares.

On the lead chopper the side door was opened, literally cutting the unit patch in half. Leaning out behind a mounted machine gun, the gunner, his face obscured by his helmet and visor, maneuvered the arm of the weapon's mount apparatus to get a clear shot at his fleeing goal.

"This is Hulkbuster One, I have a clean shot, over." he spoke into the comms system that curved down from the right side of his head-gear.

"Hulkbuster One this is Thunderbolt, you are clear to engage, over"

Trailing several hundred meters behind the aircraft a squad of armored personnel carriers bounded after them, their engines howling at max RPM. Strapped into the passenger seat of the center vehicle, General Thaddeus 'Thunderbolt' Ross watched the hand-held monitor in front of him intently. The direct video feed from the cockpit of the leading helicopter allowed him to keep sight of the Hulk from a safe distance. His white eyebrows were pitched inward under the Kevlar helmet, his face tightened in reaction to the green blot outrunning his birds.

"A year without a sighting" He snarled to himself, "Now I've got you out in the open Banner. You're not getting away from me this time."

Hulk landed on a high rock outcropping overlooking the sparsely vegetated vista, where he lingered for a moment. He exhaled audibly, the chase had lasted for the better part of the morning, and in this open terrain there was simply no place to break contact. Aside from the constant hounding, this might otherwise be a relaxing day in the sun.

Behind Hulk, the helicopter rose up at point-blank range, the muffled chop of the blades betraying at last its presence. Hulk turned and appraised the familiar enemy, shouting at it like an animal trying to intimidate a rival. A high-pitched whir presaged a torrent of armor piercing rounds that forced Hulk to guard his face with his forearms. The barrage was strong enough that it pushed him back until he toppled over the edge.

A surprised holler echoed out over the basin as Hulk fell the 40-meters to the ground.

Rising from the impact, the soft _wump-wump-wump_ of the second and third assault choppers drew his attention as they rounded either side of the rock formation. The sand around Hulk erupted into the air as rounds from the late entrants peppered the spot before converging to shower him. The lead chopper surmounted the obstacle and joined its fire to the onslaught.

Hulk staggered under the fusillade, the sheer momentum shoving him, turning his shoulders until he stumbled to his hands and knees.

Watching on his screen, General Ross' excitement grew, the long-sought prize of bringing the Hulk under heel finally within reach.

"All units, close in and subdue him!"

The seven APC's came to a screeching halt under the cover of the helicopters, their back-ends folded out into ramps, down which the dozens of armor-clad solders stormed. Sporting the latest Stark Industries combat gear, they took positions in a half-circle around Hulk, readying their weapons. Since normal tranquilizer rounds couldn't penetrate the Gamma mutant's skin, these automatics fired a cartridge which upon impact, crushed in their nose cone and released a gel of fast-acting sedatives, which would be absorbed through the dermis.

When Ross himself exited the vehicle, dressed in the same body armor and tactical gear as his men, he couldn't take his eyes away from an opponent who had eluded him for so long. Watching Hulk labor to protect himself gratified the General, just rewards for all the damage and alarm he had wrought. He glimpsed to see all the soldiers around him poised and ready.

"Air units cease fire!" He commanded, and the chain guns whined to a halt, and Hulk slowly started getting to his feet.

Ross sneered, "Ground units, open fire!"

Within a second, Hulk's body was covered in the tiny casings, stuck to him by the tranquilizing gel. He thrashed his arms vainly to bat the tiny projectiles away, but they just attached themselves in swaths. He fell to a knee, tired from the chase and the flooding of his bloodstream with the sedative, he felt the will to fight fading away.

General Ross watched his withering foe with tense anticipation, memories of all the times Hulk had escaped flashing though his mind, his Moby Dick at last slain.

Hulk fell to a knee, breathing heavily, his body gleaming in the sun from the coat of capsules covering him.

" Hulllk…. Tirreeed…"

His world was a spinning, the heat, the dehydration, it was all cinching the noose, his head bowed, the darkness at the corners of his vision about to fold over him.

But then he heard a scream.

It was faint, barely audible, but there was something so familiar about it, a woman's scream, a scream for help.

Ross grinned, seeing the fight finally taken out of the Hulk.

"Containment Unit, move in!"

One of the Helicopters came to a stop directly over the stooped creature, its belly opening to reveal a bell-shaped object, lowered down by a steel cable. Several soldiers approached rapidly, weapons high, timing their convergence to match that of the containment cell.

Just as they were feet away, and the bell coming down, Hulk's hand shot outward and caught the bottom edge of the cell. They froze in their tracks, the slightest sign of resistance from the beast compelling them to fear his terrible power. Ross' face twisted with shock, the amount of drugs in the Hulk's blood enough to kill a pod of whales.

Lifting the trap inch by inch, Hulk, felt his body overcoming the sedative, burning through it. He heard the scream again, calling out to him, crying for him to help, and it pushed him forward, made him strong, made him angry.

The nearby soldiers gaped in astonishment as Hulk single-handedly repulsed the titanium cell, stepping backwards in unison.

Fed-up, General Ross seized the rifle of a soldier standing next to him, and taking aim, fired shot after shot into Hulk's abdomen, stepping forward with each round.

"Why don't you go down! Why don't you just go to damn sleep!"

The closer he got, the higher the cell went, until Ross was only meter away, looking dead into Hulk's face as the bottom edge of the bell ascended.

The two paused there for a moment, staring into each others eyes, Ross with the rifle aimed for Hulk's forehead, Hulk's lips curling back to show his teeth. The frequent comparison to Captain Ahab was not unknown to the General, and in the frozen moment, he found himself remembering the iconic line of the captain.

"From Hell's heart, I stab at thee…"

Time slowed to a grind for Hulk as he looked down the barrel, his pursuers finger contracting on the trigger. But just past the white haired man, he saw one of the helicopters loitering, and in it was something that caused his blood pressure to surge, the adrenaline skyrocketing.

Ross could feel the hammer about to drop when Hulk leapt over him, the barrel of the rifle knocked back into his face by an inadvertent knee. The stock struck Ross in the forehead, knocking him out instantly.

Hulk roared furiously as he sailed through the air, spittle flying from his mouth. The helicopter just a second too late in pulling away, and when Hulk latched onto the side, it pitched sharply to the left, setting of alarms and dumping one of the crewmen out of the side door. He screamed on the way out, but came to a whip-lashing stop as Hulk caught him. As the chopper spun wildly, Hulk held the man to his face for a moment, before tossing him away.

Hulk stuck his head into the cabin, and disappointed, launched himself away, letting the aircraft twirl into the side of the rock formation where it splintered into flames and wreckage.

"Gro…. no…"

All around General Ross the world was a blur, everything was chaotic. His senses were assaulted by the sounds of warfare, explosions, gunfire, men screaming. The smell of burning machinery stung his nose, causing him to wince. The sensation of moving finally brought him round, as he realized he was being carried by two people.

"where….. where's Hulk?" he asked his men groggily. He looked up into the face of his second in command, Colonel Glen Talbot, who seemed as terrified as he'd ever seen a person.

"Something set him off General! He's gone postal!"

The mad bellow of the Hulk drew Ross' attention to the left, where he saw one of the APCs being held overhead, the Hulk standing underneath it, his face gnarled in rage.

"PUNY MEN SHOOT HULK! HULK SMASH PUNY MEN!"

With a heave, Hulk sent the armored vehicle crashing into another. A third came charging at him, but Hulk put a fist into it's front, stopping it dead in its tracks causing the engine to explode.

Ross could only watch on in horror as his men and equipment were dismantled, nothing able to halt the beasts rampage. Rounds from one of the remaining choppers rained across his back, but Hulk immediately turned and hurled himself at it. Hulk grabbed the spinning rotors with one hand, ripped it off, and flung the blades down where they impaled another APC. Both plummeting, Hulk dug his fingers into the fuselage and pried open a hole through which examined the panicked passengers.

"BAD MEN GO AWAY!"

Both craft and creature hit the ground and were lost in a fireball. A second later, Hulk leaped from the ruin, lading among scattering troops who instead of firing their weapons, fled for their lives. Jumping again, Hulk mounted an APC that had left in such a hurry that its rear door was still down. Hulk came down on the roof and cratered the center, peeling away the back half like a sardine can.

The head trauma causing Ross to drift between clarity and haze, he felt a tear crawling down his cheek. This mission, the result of months of planning and training, had bore no more success than anything else he did in the past few years he spent chasing down the Hulk. His life dedicated to capturing Banner surmised in the flaming wreckage and cries of his men.

He blinked groggily trying to keep himself focused, and facing away from him he saw the Hulk standing atop the mutilated APC, surveying the field, roaring.

The Hulk slowly turned, glaring over at Ross as the general was carried into the back of one of the few remaining APCs. Hulk knew he had won.

"Puny Ross."

The gamma goliath stepped down, moving purposefully towards them. Talbot let the other soldier take Ross into the vehicle, much to the General's alarm; "Glen! What are you doing?!"

"The General needs medical attention, we'll hold the Hulk off!"

Colonel Talbot waved several more soldiers to his side, where together they formed a line, weapons raised. Hulk snarled, growling like a wolf stalking its prey. Glancing side to side, Talbot saw that the men were nervous, wide-eyed and their rifles shaking. He wasn't much better off. Behind him he heard the sound of the door closing on the APC, and decided to make his stand here.

"Open fire!"

The base of fire began its attack, more of the sedative capsules sticking to Hulk's body. Hulk raised a forearm to shield himself, but the capsules effectiveness no longer deterred him. Stretching his arms back, he brought his hands together in a clap, creating a shockwave that not just repelled the mid-air tranquilizer rounds, but knocked the men off their feet several yards. The internal injuries sustained by the soldiers caused them to writhe on the ground, the fractured bones and crushed organs not dissimilar from the damage taken in a high-speed car crash.

The APC carrying general Ross sped off, and hulk might have chased after him, but it had been a long day and fighting was not something that appealed to him. Ignoring the men still struggling to breath, Hulk turned, pushing the flaming wreckage of a vehicle out of his way as he strolled from the epicenter of the combat zone.

Hulk came to a stop a few yards beyond the perimeter, taking a second to knock away the capsules still stuck to himself.

And there it was again, the scream.

Hulk searched the horizon for any sign of the one in danger, seeing nothing but a vague spot of movement far in the distance. With a single leap, Hulk was soaring through the air in the direction of the call for help.

 **GAMMA BASE**

 **NEXT MORNING**

The conference room was quite as the three people at the table waited for the large monitor to come to life. The typical Army layout of the room saw a long wooden table surrounded by chairs, with multiple flags against the wall.

Seated at the end of the table opposite the black screen, General Ross in his formal dress-greens stared at the void, the wait causing him to tap his pen repeatedly.

To his left was Colonel Talbot, similarly dressed, and glancing nervously at the pen that had been rapping on the table for about 10 minutes.

To Ross' right was his daughter Elizabeth Ross, though she owed her status at the table to her own accomplishments in radiobiology. But no-one would deny the real reason she was there was because she was the love of Bruce Banner's life, and one of the few people alive who could stand-up to the Hulk without being squashed like a bug.

The General's face was a marred with a ugly purple and black bruise that splotched the center of his face, a reminder of his infuriatingly brief moment of triumph. The rest of his features were no less inviting, and he stared at the screen with seething resentment. Nearly three years of hunting down the Hulk resulted in a humiliating defeat, and now the office of the Secretary of Defense wanted to have a discussion to 'revise' the project.

Finally the screen illuminated, with the logo of 'Secure Channel' spanning the width. Talbot and Elizabeth both exhaled with relief.

The monitor image flashed to reveal the Assistant Secretary of Defense for Policy, special operations and low-intensity conflict, staring into the camera, his face impassive. "General Ross." he began; "I hope you're recovering well."

"My face is fine Mr. Secretary, but I think my Hulkbuster unit is a little banged up."

"So I understand. The fact of the matter is that the Defense Council is not happy. After all the resources and leeway you were granted, the Hulk tore you guys apart."

Ross gripped the pen in his hand so hard, Talbot could hear the knuckles cracking.

"The tactic was working Mr. Secretary, something just… there was an unforeseen element that-"

"Unforeseen or not," The secretary interrupted, leaving Ross with his mouth hanging open, "The decision on behalf of the Secretary of Defense, is that your method of chasing down the Hulk across a dozen states guns blazing is not effective, and quite frankly reckless. You are hereby ordered to cease Hulkbuster operations."

Ross' eyes went wide in shock, and he leapt to his feet; "Mr. Secretary! I don't think that the threat of the Hulk is fully impressed on the Secretary of Defense!"

"The Secretary is fully aware of the danger the Hulk presents, which is why we're authorizing the transfer of mission operations to contain the Hulk to SHIELD."

The mention of the independent, nearly rogue defense faction nearly burst a blood vessel in Ross' eye. He stammered out a desperate objection; "SHIELD!? Those loose cannons! This is a job for small armies not spies!"

"The Secretary feels that under the command of Director Fury, the mission will be streamlined, better able to react to incidents. Fury tells me that he presently has personnel observing the Hulk in the field."

"He what?"

Getting forward observes to track the Hulk had been a constant struggle for his unit, and the idea that Fury had people with eyes on already was astounding to him.

"Furthermore," The secretary continued, "Director Fury has also requested that Dr. Ross be brought onto his team, her expertise being both professional and personnel."

Infuriated, Thunderbolt slammed a fist on the table, "I can't stop the DOD from giving my mission away, but I'll be damned if Fury think's he can poach my daughter for his band of -!"

"I'll do it."

Standing beside her flabbergasted father, Betsy Ross nodded firmly, "I'll go, if for no other reason than to make sure they don't try to kill Bruce or turn him into a weapon."

The Secretary took a piece of paper in his hand, rechecking some lines of text; "Excellent, the information will be forwarded to you shortly through SHIELD channels. General Ross…"

Still taken aback by his daughter's abrupt decision to jump ship, Thaddeus responded to the call by moving his head slowly, all the fight drained from him.

"..It is the advice of the Secretary that you take some time off. This hunt of yours has taken a toll, so we are putting you on indefinite leave."

"Indefinite?" Ross asked, the magnitude of this condition causing his heart to fall. he wasn't just being taken out of the play, he was being benched.

"Just until you can recharge, refocus your priorities, so that you can come back to us clear-headed and ready to work."

Ross was dejected, by being put on leave they were effectively sunsetting his career. There would be no second chance at going after the Hulk, his unit would be transformed or subsumed, and his legacy would go down in ignominy.

"If I may ask, Mr. Secretary," Ross said without looking up; "Just what does Nick Fury plan to replace my Hulkbuster unit with?"

The Secretary took another look at the sheet, reading something from near the bottom of the letter.

"I don't know all the details off-hand, but it's a protocol he refers to as:

The Avengers"


	3. Chapter 2: Pirate

**NORTH ATLANTIC**

 _ **SWEET EXCURSIONS**_ **CRUISELINER**

 **MARCH 2004**

Out on the open ocean, the sky was blue and cloudless. The water was calm as the 705-footer gracefully sliced its way along, icebergs in the distance the only break in the horizon. The long red band spanning the length of the impeccably white starboard wall ending in the ship's title, labeled in a romantic font.

"I'm so glad we took this trip Hank."

Standing over the prow, a young couple held each other as the light breeze danced in their hair. Both were dressed warmly to defend against the chilly north-Atlantic climate, but the sun was warm enough to allow them to go without hat or hood. Her short auburn hair in a pixie cut, she smiled at her companion, a handsome lad with brown hair and hazel eyes.

"Well you're the one who paid for it all Janet."

She rearranged herself and planted a kiss on his cheek, "I wanted to treat you. You worked so hard to win that science tournament, you deserve a reward."

"Well, the proto-particles are what really won it for me. Plus, you're the reason I even discovered them at all."

She linked her hands behind his neck, pulling his face down closer to hers; "So I guess we'll consider this a joint reward then huh?"

"I can't imagine what celebration you have planned for when we graduate college." Hank Pym teased.

Janet Van Dyne blushed a bit as she smiled, "Let me give you a hint."

They collapsed together into a kiss, a rising spray of salt water dousing them from the from the surf.

"What the hell?" Janet said in bewilderment, "The water was still a second ago."

She and Hank moved towards the railing, but were stopped when the olive colored conning tower of a submarine rose into view. As it continued to rise, they stepped back at the sight of the red icon painted on the hull, the skull surrounded by tentacles. The symbol of HYDRA.

On deck the screams of the other passengers could be heard as they scrambled for some kind of safety on the ship that they were beginning to realize they were trapped like rats.

"Come on!" Hank grabbed her hand and led her away at a sprint, "We have to get to my bags in the room!"

They fled inside as aquatic assault HYDRA agents climbed over the opposite side, their black wetsuits and automatic weapons still dripping with seawater. Double-doors atop the center of the submarine's hull opened, and a dozen more uniformed Hydra soldiers rushed aboard, herding the straggling passengers into corners.

Once all the soldiers had gotten off, only one figure was left standing, scrutinizing carefully the scene before him. His black tactical gear was augmented in several places with Kevlar body armor, and strapped to him were combat knives and multiple firearms. He stood tall at 6'4, his massive chest crested by two long bones in an 'X', his black mask complimented by a perpendicular white cross.

"Remember," He yelled to his men, "The lab monkeys don't want them harmed, so once you find 'em, use minimal force to bring them in!"

Crossbones stepped down onto the deck, and headed towards the bridge.

Down in the middle deck, Hank and Janet hurried down the hall towards their room, HYDRA agents beginning to flood into the ship.

Pausing to peer around a corner, Hank "What do you think they're after?"

"Not sure," she answered, making sure no-one was coming behind them, "There's a lot of rich people on this boat, could be a kidnap and ransom sorta thing."

The pair finally reached their room, Hank quickly unlocking the door, then once inside closing it behind them. He rushed over to his luggage, and opened a bag;

"I'm not sure HYDRA needs money that bad, but if they get their hands on my proto-particles, they-"

"You brought your particles with you?!" She asked, extending her arms to accent her frustration.

Hank turned his head to her, offering an apologetic smile and a shrug of his shoulders; "…yeah…"

Gunshots from the upperdeck startled them, Janet having to cover her mouth to keep from shrieking.

Walking through the threshold to the bridge, crossbones looked down to the crewmember sitting in a pool of blood, a red splotch on the breast of his white uniform surrounding an entry wound. His face stared blankly up to the ceiling, mouth hung open, eyes pale. In his hands was an AR-15, and a spent cartridge standing by itself in the blood.

"He took a shot at us Sir." One of the nondescript agents in a wetsuit explained, his own weapon held across his chest.

"Moron." was all Brock Rumlow spared for the dead, before walking past him.

Huddled in the bridge was a collection of crew and passengers, the Captain stood alone by the helm, a rifle pressed to the small of his back.

"What does HYDRA want on my ship?" he demanded.

Crossbones walked-up to him until he was an inch away. He loomed down at the sailor, who shrunk under his gaze. Rumlow produced a sheet of paper from his pocket, unfolded it, and held it for the captain to see. On it, were pictures of Hank and Janet taken from the internet.

"My men are searching the ship for these two, and the faster we find them, the faster we leave. Where. is. their. room?"

The captain recoiled, hesitant to turn the two over to the international terrorists.

"Those two?" He questioned, making sure, "They're just kids."

A few moments passed as Brock tilted his head, "don't wanna give the kids up to the big bad HYDRA guys huh? I understand. Let me ask a different way."

Moving in a flash, Crossbones sunk a left hook body shot into the captain's ribs, a loud snap signaling the broken ribs. The man fell to his knees clutching his side, his face contorted in agony as he cried.

To emphasize his point, Rumlow seized on of the passengers, grabbing a middle-aged east-Asian woman by her hair, dragging her over to the captain. He held her face down, mashing her nose into the carpet as she sobbed and pleaded in Japanese.

"Shizuka!" he scolded her. He slid a knife from his back and placed the tip against the base of her skull, pressing just hard enough for a small drop of blood to sprout up. When her whimpering ceased, Crossbones looked again to the squirming captain.

"Where, is their room?"

"Hurry-up Hank, they're coming!"

Janet had her ear to the door, listening to one door after another being kicked in, the shouts of HYDRA agents working their way down the hall to their room.

Over by one of the beds, Hank was half-shoved into a full-body red and black fiber-mesh suit, his legs were in, but the rest from the waist up dangled off.

"I am hurrying, I just need to make some adjustments."

In his hand, he fiddled with several small wires and dials on a device attached to the left forearm of the suit.

Janet put her pupil to the eyehole, "What do you need to adjust? It worked fine at the science tournament."

"When it's on a mannequin I'm not too worried about it malfunctioning. If there's a problem while I'm wearing it, I have no idea what'll happen, and I would like to avoid finding out."

He fixed one last wire before snapping the cover closed, the two button panel being the control mechanism.

"Let's just hope this doesn't turn me into a pile of goo."

The crack of a wooden door splintering off the hinge across the hall told them that time was up, and Hank slid his arms into the outfit.

Janet backed away from the door, not taking her eyes away "Is it ready?" she asked in a whisper, so as not to alert the predators. Hank zipped the suit midline and fixed the hood over his face, exhaling to clear his head.

"Please don't kill me."

Out in the hall, the three man team of masked HYDRA soldiers stacked on the door to Janet and Hank's room like a professional SWAT team, one of them poised in front.

He glanced back to his comrades; "Boss says the kids are in here, remember soft takedowns."

The other two nodded, affirming the order. The man in the rear stepped around to face the door, his weapon at the high ready, he launched a boot into it. Just like all the others the door gave way, shards of wood splintering off as the lock mechanism held while it's surroundings did not. The men entered the room efficiently and smoothly, inspecting every nook and cranny for their targets.

"No sign of 'em." said one.

"Their luggage is out, must be hiding somewhere else." came another.

They dumped the bags on the floor and tossed the bed over, finding nothing telling.

"Come on," said their leader, "They can't hide for long."

They exited the room, not bothering to close the door behind them.

Marching through the engine room, Crossbones pointed out several spots to the soldiers in his tow.

"There, there, and there."

The men hurriedly placed explosive packages to the points indicated, magnets keeping them attached to the weakpoints.

"Spread the rest out evenly, and make sure they're set. This ship goes down as soon as we're off."

More of the men moved to execute his command, one coming to his side.

"Sir, the ships comms were cut, but they did manage to send a distress signal for a few seconds."

Rumlow turned sharply, "A few seconds is all it takes, I want those kids found now!"

In Hank and Janet's room, above the doorway, two little objects floated down, mere flies on the wall to the casual observer. But when both enlarged to full-sized humans in a blur of light, they both let out a sigh of relief. She immediately hugged him,

"Hank you did it! You shrunk!"

"And I didn't die!"

His smile shifted to concern as soon as the words were out, he broke the embrace and held her at arms length; "Janet those guys were looking for us."

"I know. Do you.." she bit her lip, "Do you think they know about me?"

"Maybe, but how could they? You were never registered."

Janet stepped back, tightening and loosening her hands anxiously as she began to hyperventilate; "Back home I'd get taken away, HYDRA will probably dissect me like some lab experiment!"

"Janet.." Hank tried reassuring her, "We're not going to let those guys take us."

She took another step back, and her right leg wobbled, her heel atop a cylindrical device.

"Hey." Janet said, bending down to pick it up, "One of them dropped their do-hickey." She turned it over in her hand, it was olive-drab, with a black screw cap.

"It looks like it might be a flare."

"Hold on guys, I think I dropped my-"

The HYDRA guard stood in the doorway, Janet and Hank standing just as still as he, staring back.

"Uh-oh" Janet spoke without moving her lips.

"THEY'RE IN HERE!" The HYDRA agent yelled, raising his weapon at the pair.

"RUN HANK!"

In the same second as the soldier stepped into the room, Hank Pym pressed a button on his left wrist, shrinking him down to the size of a bug on the floor. Janet shrunk as well, but she hovered in the air, sprouting a set of translucent wings from her back that kept her flying.

The agent, recoiled at the sight, couldn't react in time to the barrage of tiny yellow blasts that assailed his face. He stumbled back until his foot shot into the air, sending him crashing onto his back. Down on the carpet, Hank stood where the foot had been, "Hey Jan! The molecular density increased my power, just like I thought!"

She landed down behind him, putting her arms under his, "Tell me all about it later!" Her wings beating furiously, she lifted him off the ground and whisked them both away just as the other two soldiers rounded the corner, slipping just past them.

Minutes later, Crossbones entered the room himself, the three guards who had lost the couple standing stiff for his inspection.

"They were in here sir, but they size-shifted like you said they might."

"Who saw them first?" Rumlow asked, looking over to where the contents of Pym's bags lay strewn on the floor.

One of the men stepped forward, "I did sir, I tried to take 'em but they got away."

Without taking his eyes away from the clothes, he reached out with his left arm, grabbed the agent who had spoken by his lapel, and hurled him against the wall. He collapsed in a groaning heap.

"That's what I gave you guys stun flares for. Did you find any scientific gear? Anything techie?"

"Negative sir." said one of the remaining men.

"He's wearing the suit. They'll be hard to spot."

He checked his watch.

"Get all the passengers on the outside deck, I'm going to flush them out."

Standing in the bridge, Crossbones held the microphone to his mouth. Through the window and below him, he watched his men shoving the last of the civilians into a mass herd. If his quarry were in his sight, they'd most likely be too small to see even if they were in the same room.

His mission was running out of time, there was no telling who heard the distress call before it was cut.

"Attention Hank Pym and Janet Van Dyne, you have one minute to surrender yourselves to my men, or we will throw two people into the sea. 30 seconds after that, four will go overboard. Et cetera, et cetera. Time starts now."

"What do we do?"

In their diminutive form, Janet and Hank stood atop the bridge house, overlooking the scenario.

"I don't know Hank, but we can't let them kill those people!" She pleaded.

"We need a plan, something to distract them long enough until help arrives."

"Help from who? we're out in the middle of the ocean!"

Pym thought for a second, "You think the soldiers would be more worried about us or their boss?"

"30 seconds." Rumlow gritted his teeth, if those damn kids were willing to let people die, then they'd have to just blow the whole ship and sift through the wreckage.

behind him, a flash of light caught his attention.

"Stop! please."

Hank Pym stood there behind him, his palms forward in the universal gesture to cease. "Don't hurt anybody!"

Crossbones snapped his head left to right, "Where's your girlfriend?"

"Right here!"

A yellow light welled-up at Rumlow's feet, expanding until it struck him in the chest, Janet growing to her full height as she pulverized him. Crossbones was pinned to the window by the force of the stinger blast, is nerves screaming from the continuous pain.

"Hold him there Janet, I'll go get the hostages!" Hank yelled, dashing out of the room.

"Got 'em." She answered, tilting her head to the side but not losing sight of the HYDRA boss.

A flight of stairs led directly from the control deck to the stern deck, and a wet-suited HYDRA agent pointed his weapon at Hank as soon as he appeared at the top of the steps. Thinking quickly, Pym leaped, shrinking in mid-air. He landed both-feet first on the agents forehead, whipping his head back and sending him sprawling to the floor.

On the open deck, guards who held their rifles over the heads of the kneeling hostages had just noticed the yellow light emanating from the windows above; and were taken by surprise by the sound of one guard after another being tossed off their feet. Their attention switched between the situations; and what they did not do, was execute hostages.

In the bridge, Crossbones, still under the pressure of Janet's stinger blast, reached agonizingly into his belt line. His right hand, hidden from her view by the shine of the energy, gripped at last an olive-green cylinder. Popping the cap off, he turned it towards her.

The loud _POP_ and flash of white light forced Janet to cry out and shield her eyes, allowing crossbones to make his move. As hard as he could he flung the spent flash grenade at Janet, striking her on the side of the head and knocking her back in a tumble, her body colliding with the steering wheel. The whole ship lurched as it took the sharp right turn.

Bracing himself against the wall, Rumlow spied his men clamoring about to deal with Pym, one being toppled overboard.

"oh man…" Janet was pushing herself off the ground when a bicep as thick as her head wrapped around her neck and lifted her bodily off the ground.

Crossbones held her against his chest in the sleeper hold. Her neck felt so fragile in his arms he could tell that a simple flex could snap it like uncooked pasta. She gagged and clawed at his arm, panic overtaking her fight or flight instinct. Finally her body went limp, and he slung her over his shoulder.

"You're lucky HYDRA wants you alive you little bitch."

Down on the deck, Hank's world had become a forest of legs and feet, the hands of giants trying to snatch him. Every now and then he'd manage to trip one, but it was a losing game, there were too many of them, and just one tiny him.

He stole a glance up to the windows of the bridge, and noticed that there was no longer any sign of Janet keeping the menacing thug at bay.

A hand came down for him, and Hank had to dive to escape being captured by mere millimeters. He dodged a stomping foot, vaulted a sweeping rifle barrel, and dove to avoid a pinching fingers.

One of the crew men, steeling his courage, got to his feet and landed fist into the jaw of a HYDRA diver so hard, the crack was audible. He seized the rifle as it fell from the enemy's grasp, and turned it on the other soldiers.

He managed to shoot down two of the hijackers before taking a bullet himself in the left shoulder. He staggered, and tried to raise the rifle again, but a second round blew his head apart in a violent explosion.

Standing along with a modified automatic pistol in his still extended hand, Janet unconscious on his shoulder, Crossbones grimaced.

"Hank Pym! Show yourself or I sink this ship and everyone on it!"

No one, neither hostage or HYDRA moved, all paused in place.

Rumlow's eyes darted, "Five! Four! Three!…"

"Alright! Alright!"

From among the pool of cowering civilians, Hank appeared, his hands raised. A HYDRA soldier walked-up beside and butt-stroked him in the back of the head, dropping Pym.

"Get these two in their damn cages!" Crossbones ordered, handing Janet off to a soldier, "I want us underwater and gone!"

"Leaving already Rumlow? This cruise serves the best Atlantic salmon."

Caught off-guard, Crossbones turned his face upwards to see a hovering figure in red-and-gold plated armor.

"Iron Man…" he grumbled through his teeth.

"I know It's about time I got here right? So how's about we all surrender nice and orderly?" Iron Man said.

Crossbones searched his men for some reaction, "SHOOT HIM OUT OF THE SKY YOU IDIOTS!"

The men opened fire, their bullets pinging harmlessly off of the armor.

"Oh no, please stop." Iron Man dead-panned, while raising his palms. White repulsor beams rained down on the agents, Crossbones ducked one aimed for him and made for the sub. He saw that his men carrying Pym and the Van Dyne girl were forced to take cover, and knew that he was out of options. He grabbed the detonator command from his belt, flipped open the safety cap with his thumb, and pressed the button.

The back section of the ship jumped as multiple charges obliterated the engine room and fuel tanks. Forgetting the threat from the HYDRA agents, the passengers and crewmembers erupted into a chaotic mess, scrambling for the lifeboats. In the fray, Iron Man couldn't get a clear shot at the agents in the crowd.

"Oh jeez, come on! JARVIS help me out here."

The automated voice of his A.I. responded, "The ship only has minutes left until it goes under. But of particular importance I think is the young pair being carried aboard the HYDRA craft."

Indeed, Hank and Janet were being loaded onto the sub as the other agents themselves rapidly withdrew

With the rest of the civilians filling the lifeboats, Iron Man prioritized; "Hey! I don't think those belong to you!"

Diving, Iron man skimmed the heads of those underneath him, aiming to rescue them. He was meters away when Crossbones emerged from the crowd and intercepted him mid-air, tackling Iron Man to the rocking deck.

The two landed in a tangle, with Crossbones rolling away instantly.

"Huh?" was Iron Man's reaction, confused why a known master of unarmed combat wouldn't finish him off. But the beeping coming from his back solved the mystery.

The small explosive pack attached to his back went off, propelling him upwards. He came crashing back down landing on his stomach, sparks flying from his suit.

"Mobility has been crippled Sir, restoring power in one minute."

"Do we have a minute before this tub sinks JARVIS?"

"No."

"HYDRA's had their eyes on you." Crossbones approached, walking straight for the downed hero. "Ever since you cropped-up a few months ago, the big-wigs have wanted to get their hands on your tech. I'm gonna score a big paycheck for hauling you in."

He knelt down beside Iron Man, and flipped him over onto his back. "Let's see who's the man behind the mask."

Rumlow gripped the faceplate in his hand, and tried twisting it off. He was suddenly struck with current of electricity surging up from the mask that paralyzed him, until it ended and he fell over on his left side.

"Sir," JARVIS began, "The jolt has connected a circuit, The suit is-"

"Got it JARVIS." Iron Man said as he sat up.

"You should also know, SHIELD aircraft is inbound."

"They can handle the mop-up, I can't let that sub get away!"

The atmosphere of the submarine's interior was bathed in a red light, at least, that what Hank thought as he felt himself being carried over someone's shoulder. He heard the sounds of electronics and boots on metal floors, he knew he wasn't on the cruise ship anymore. His immediate thought was of Janet, and slowly twisting his head to the side, he saw that she was next to him, in the arms of another HYDRA soldier

" _Alright,"_ He thought to himself, " _I'll just shrink, get into the comms room, send out a distress signal, and-"_

The inner plotting came to an abrupt end when the submarine was sharply thrust backwards, throwing the man holding Hank on his shoulder off his feet. Seeing the floor rushing up to meet him, Hank reached over and activated the stature control on his left arm, shrinking just in time to avoid a head-splitting collision. He hit the floor in a roll, the panicked hands of the HYDRA agent searching around him.

The man holding Janet managed to stay vertical, using the girl in his arms as a counter-balance, and while the men around them scrambled to take control back of the continuously reversing craft. The alarm brought her to her senses, and as the man steadied himself, he was met with two balled fists inches from his face.

"Put me down." Janet said with the tone of someone with a knife to another's throat.

His arms fell away, but instead of dropping her, she shrank and fluttered off towards the ceiling.

Outside in the water, Iron Man his back to the nose of the sub's hull, his hands braced against it, his legs stuck outwards, providing the thrust to push the craft back.

"Just need to build a little.. _hrrng_.. momentum."

The more he pushed, the easier it got despite the churning of the propellers.

Inside, the two men side by side at the controls were struggling to find some way to get their forward motion going again.

"Where's Crossbones? We need to wait for him!"

"Screw him! Our mission is the kids, Rumlow overreached, he pays the price."

A torrent of yellow energy blasts rained down on them, punching through their cowls and stinging their nervous system, rendering them unconscious, slumped over the controls.

Leaping up to the panel, Hank glanced at the array of dials, switches and levers, Janet came to hover above him.

"Think we can call the Navy from here Hank?"

"I'm a little more interested in what's pushing the sub right now."

The craft rocked violently, the piercing sound of the hull scraping against ice only distracting compared to the rapid incline from the aft section of the sub.

The submarine was shoved forcefully onto the slope of the iceberg, the steel groaning as it fought the ice for every inch. Once it was far enough, Iron Man let himself slump down onto the cold surface.

 _{exhale}_ "Well… Now I know I can do that."

Not far away, the last of the cruise liner was dipping under the waves, small rivers of burning oil spreading out from their source. All the lifeboats were filled with wailing passengers and crew, all staring at the curious presence of the 'beached' craft.

"What, you guys never seen a submarine on an iceberg before?"

Loud bangs coming from inside drew his attention, along with the yells of trapped men. Iron Man flew up to the conning tower, and gripping the lid with both hands, tore it off. Instead of having to go in and extract the men, they surged out like rats escaping a deathtrap.

Deciding that facing the armored cavalier was more preferable than the assailant in the sub, they clambered around Iron Man in their effort to escape, hesitating though to venture into the icy waters.

"Um… stop… where you are?"

Overhead, SHIELD VTOLs arrived on scene, swooping down to meet the hailing civilians. Others surrounded the HYDRA soldiers, whom raised their arms in capitulation. One slowed down to land on the iceberg, a side door sliding open. Stepping down from the aircraft, a man in a long black leather coat fixed a single good eye on Iron Man, as his other was covered by a patch. He was no stranger, and Iron Man lowered himself down to meet him.

"Nick Fury, your presence here isn't suspicious at all."

The director of SHIELD smirked, "And I suppose you just happen to be in the neighborhood?"

"I was just making sure a flight route was clear for Mr. Stark when I heard the distress signal."

"Riiiiiiiight."

"So someone did hear it!"

Both Iron Man and Fury shot a gaze to the top of the sub, where Janet and Hank were sitting on the hull, her waving down to them.

"Actually we were watching, albeit from a distance. There was a little talk I wanted to have with you two. I don't think you had those HYDRA thugs running from your complaints, am I right?"

Janet's head sunk into her shoulders, understanding that her secret wasn't so secret. She shrunk and fluttered down to stand beside the men before growing back to her normal height. "I guess you know then huh? That I'm a mutant. Are you gonna turn me in to the MRD?"

"Absolutely not." Fury spat, the disdain in his voice flagrant. "You and your boyfriend have been on our radar recently. You for your abilities, and him for his tech, which I can assume has now seen some field testing."

"Nothings blown up yet." Hank remarked, similarly jumping down himself by shrinking and regrowing.

"Nice job kid," Iron Man said inspecting the suit, "how small can you get?"

"About the size of an ant."

"All reasons," Fury cut in, "That I wanted to speak to you three about a project I've got in mind, a private initiative-"

"Sorry Nick," Iron Man interrupted, pausing Fury with a raised palm. "But I'm already gainfully employed."

Fury chuckled, "I have no illusions that I could pay you more than Stark, but I was hoping to appeal to your sense of valor, if not your ego."

While the sight of enigmatic Iron Man kept Hank interested, Janet's eye wondered, and she stepped away from the conversation.

"You'll never miss if you aim for those." Iron man quipped.

"I've got a very unique situation, and I've developed a protocol."

"So what do you need us for?"

"You might say my approach is… unorthodox. I'm assembling a group designed to deal with these situations, I'd like you to be a part of that group."

"Opportunity for fame and glory?"

"Plenty. Here, take this."

Fury produced a card from a pocket on the inside breast of his coat, with a time and place detailed on it, and handed it to Iron Man.

"If you're interested, be there."

Iron Man gave it a brief look, "Hmm, I'll try to clear my schedule with Mr. Stark."

"I'd also like for you two to some as-"

Fury looked to Hank and saw that Janet was now crouched down looking at something near where the propeller of the submarine had gouged-out the ice.

"Janet!" Hank called after her, but she remained fixated.

"I found something Hank, come look at this!"

The three men crowded around behind her, while she pawed at the loose ice bits. Her digging revealed a thin rounded edge, metallic, with a red colored band along the rim.

Nick Fury knelt down next to Janet, carefully reaching out to touch the object with his gloved hand.

"What is it?" she asked.

Fury touched the rim and slid his finger gently on the edge, "A hero"


	4. Chapter 3: Awakening

**TRISKELION**

 **NEW YORK HARBOR**

"Hold on just a second."

Dressed as if they were attending a meeting of the College Republicans, Janet van Dyne and Hank Pym stood patiently as the agent who had greeted them at the entrance tried yet again to get their passes to work. Holding one of the laminated passcards under the red light of what looked like a space-age can opener, the dumpy agent in a suit smiled nervously as he waited for the computer to green light the data-chip encoded cards.

"It doesn't usually take this long, I don't know why it-"

With a pleasant chime, the light became green, and the grateful agent presented them to Hank and Janet. They took the passes, and slipped the lanyards over their necks.

"Alright!" the agent began, clasping his hands. "Now that you've been properly vetted, I'd like to introduce myself; I am Agent Eric Koenig, Triskelion security, and I would like to formally welcome you to SHIELD."

"Happy to be here, Agent Koenig." Janet spoke cheerily. Handshakes had already been exchanged when they entered the building, the smell of the bay still clinging to her blazer from the ferry ride that brought them to the artificial island.

"How could we refuse." Hank mused with no small degree of unease.

Koenig eyed him with suspicion for a heartbeat, but his face relaxed into humor as he accepted the expression as benign.

"The Director made you one of those offers huh?" he joked with a finger in their direction, following it with a small chuckle. "Come on you two, he's waiting for you upstairs."

Hank and Janet followed him through the security station, three other agents in black suits and black sunglasses tracking them as they passed. Approaching an elevator embedded within a faultless stainless-steel column, Koenig turned back to them; "Remember, lanyards out at all times." he cautioned them as the door slid open with a ding.

Entering a large, circular room Hank gave a slight look over his shoulder as Agent Koenig parted from them at the doorway. The man returned a polite nod before abruptly facing left and walking off.

"Hmm." Janet said, as they entered further, her neck craning around to examine the room. "I thought there'd be like huge weapon racks, and secret alcoves where they keep all the fancy spy gadgets."

"Maybe all that stuff is downstairs?" Hank offered, taking a seat at a large crescent table. The rooms tone was dark, no windows. Four concentric rings of lights hung from the ceiling, though only one was on, leaving much of the room's extremities in shadow. Nearly a dozen swivel chairs lined one side of the table, each of them facing the same direction, and exactly the same distance apart.

Facing the semicircle, was a large flat-screen monitor, turned off at the moment.

"Trust me…" came a voice from a dark corner that surprised them both. They turned in the direction it had come, and saw a familiar man step into the light. "We got closets like that all over the place. We just hide 'em real well."

Janet swallowed hard, "Will we be learning sneaky spy stuff like that?"

Fury shrugged his shoulders as he rounded the corner of the table, tracing a finger along the surface. "If you want. With your powers stealth infiltration would be right up your alley. Both of yours really."

"Is that what you have in mind for us?" Hank asked, he and Janet slipping into seats. "You want us to steal something? Take pictures of some secret foreign project?"

"Someday probably." Fury said, seeming to mull the thought in his head. "But you ain't reached that level yet. Plus, The job I have in mind for you three isn't exactly under the radar."

Hank and Janet traded confused glances, "What do you mean 'you three'?" she probed.

"He means me."

The metal boots clanging with every step, Iron Man entered the room. Four SHIELD agents buzzed around him, including Koenig who was embarrassingly trying to halt his advance by pushing against his chest.

"I'm so sorry Director, he just-"

Fury cut him off with a raised hand, much to Koenig's mortification. "It's fine Agent, he's expected."

Iron Man placed his left hand on Koenig's head, and moved him aside. "I like your moxie kid, but check the guest list next time."

As Koenig exited, Iron Man stood there, observing the others.

"Glad you could make it Iron Man." Fury greeted.

Iron Man glanced between Hank and Janet, "I see I'm just in time for the scout meeting. What's our first merit badge gonna be?"

"Hey!" Janet cried out, hands on her hips.

"Kidding, just kidding." Iron Man said with his hand raised defensively. "I know what brought you two to the table. A young science wiz with a pioneering particle project, and a pugnacious pixie with ah, stinger blasts."

Janet held up her fist, glowing with energy, fixing the bodyguard with a hard glare.

"Now that cha'll got the niceties out of the way." Fury interrupted, "Have a seat and we can get this thing underway."

A minute later, with the three guests sitting at the table, the SHIELD Director turned on the screen with a remote no bigger than his palm.

"Shoulda thought to bring my movie rewards card." Iron Man mumbled.

The video ran through a series of anachronistic test screen slides before settling onto a scanned black and white photo of a scrawny young man dressed in an olive-drab Army uniform.

"Anybody recognize this young man?" Nick asked them, his arm raised towards the screen. But the others glanced between themselves, having no answer.

"I didn't think so." Fury continued, "That's because you might better recognize him in this picture."

With a click of the remote, the picture changed to show the front page of an Army Times newspaper from December 1943, one that was indeed more familiar. On it, Captain America, shield in hand, was pointing to some objective in the distance, with soldiers around him coming down a hill, rifles raised.

"I remember seeing that picture of Captain America in history classes." Janet said, her head tilted. "But that first guys can't possibly be him, Cap's like, twice his body mass."

Another click, and the screen was filled with several data windows, the top-right of which highlighted and expanded to show what looked like an industrial laboratory, in the center was a sleek pod around which several scientists fussed over.

"The Super-Soldier program," Nick began, "was designed to create the world's greatest warfighter. Stronger body, faster reflexes, sharper mind, everything a man would need to be the baddest on the battlefield. And the man they chose for that, was Steve Rogers."

Another window opened, this one with grainy footage of the skinny Steve Rogers being helped into the transformation pod. Beside it, a modern data scroll of his information; date of birth, home of record, parents, previous enlistment attempts, details of his diagnostics.

"I've heard about this." Iron Man spoke, the tone of his voice denoting his increasing understanding of the science they were seeing. "This is Project Rebirth."

"Correct." Fury continued. "Our government's only flawless application of the Super-Soldier program. Without going into depth, you will recall that between 1943 and 1945, Steve Rogers fought the axis forces in both the European and Pacific theaters. His most recurrent opposition of course, came in the form of the NAZI-splinter cult known as HYDRA."

The next image was the tentacled deaths-head that served as HYDRA's emblem. Reflexively Janet flinched, subtly, but Hank did perceive it. He reached for her hand underneath the table, and she let him take it, giving it a squeeze in thanks.

"Led by the charismatic Johann Schmidt, known infamously as 'The Red Skull', " Fury's narration was complemented by a side-by-side picture of the Nazi officer Schmidt, and his true face, that of a hideous red visage pulled tight over the skeleton. "for obvious reasons, Captain Rogers spent much of the war uprooting and destroying their bases of operations, and hunting for Schmidt."

The screen rotated through a series of aerial recon pictures of HYDRA bases in Europe, and one in the Pacific.

"For two years the Red Skull eluded Cap, jumping from one safe house to another, and throwing anything in Caps way to slow him down. Until finally, the HYDRA leader was cornered in Norway, in the last of their major bases."

"That was the base with the missile silo right?" Hank asked.

"Yep, with a warhead aimed straight for the East Coast." The next slide was a map of the Atlantic Ocean, with a flight path drawn from Europe to the eastern United States. "Red Skull was going for one last Hail-Mary. Aboard that missile was a brand new biological weapon that would have done god-knows-what to hundreds of thousands of American citizens. Fortunately for us, Cap made sure that didn't happen.

So while Allied forces launched an assault, Captain Rogers, along with his right hand James 'Bucky' Barnes, secretly infiltrated the base with the mission to prevent the launch of the missile."

Old, shaky video footage of the frontal assault on the base began to play, the shouts of men giving orders, screams, and explosions accompanied the scenery. In the background was the stronghold, a fortified castle of concrete built into the side of a mountain. Suddenly, erupting from the highest turret, the missile shot into the air.

"As you can see, Red Skull managed to get it in the air, but not before Cap buried him under the rubble."

Flash photos of the body of the Red Skull went across the screen, showing his corpse on a coroner's slab. The body was visibly mangled in several places, crushed and broken.

"Cap and Bucky managed to get aboard the ICBM, and worked frantically over the northern Atlantic to disarm or divert it. They succeeded in getting the propulsion section to jettison the warhead, but in the process-"

"They were lost at sea." Iron Man finished for him. "The Warhead was recovered, but the bodies of Captain America and Bucky Barnes were never found."

"Until now." Fury said, pressing a button to open a new video window on the screen, this one modern and clear, showing a block of ice being extricated and lifted by a helicopter.

Janet perked-up in her seat, pointing to the images, "That's the iceberg we got stranded on!"

"And that Ms. Van Dyne is the side of Steve Rogers shield sticking out of the ice." Fury used the palm device to point a laser to where the rounded edge of red metal could be seen embedded in the side of the block. "I would like to thank you Janet, and Hank, and even Iron Man, because we have finally recovered Captain America."

The three guests leaned back in their chairs, reeling from the surprise.

"Are you saying you have the body of a 70 year old war hero thawing out downstairs, Fury?" Iron Man asked him incredulously.

"Oh we thawed him out yesterday."

Floors below them, technicians working in a sterile lab were busy examining the limp form of Steve Rogers. His uniform was pale and ragged, and his cowl was torn in half. His shield lay beside him on a separate table. One tech approached him with forceps, and began to carefully peel back the deteriorated clothing. He opened the double-breasted blouse, where in several documents were still folded, and a pocket watch rested. Using the forceps, he lifted the watch out to examine, but was suddenly distracted by something else.

"Hey check this out Fred." he said to a nearby attendant with a clipboard, "There's some muscle spasming in the right hand. Must be an effect of the thawing."

Hank stood up from his chair, "While I'm happy to have helped bring Captain Rogers back home, I don't think this was why you wanted us all here."

"Astute observation Mr. Pym." said Fury without looking in his direction. Instead, he minimized the images of Captain America, and brought up a new window that featured a loading bar in the center.

"I brought you here for this." The bar finished loading, and was replaced by a candid shot of a huge green man standing among the wreckage of a military instillation. He was surrounded by the smoke of destruction, and his face was contorted in a snarl of rage.

"What is that thing?" A stunned Iron Man questioned, getting up from his chair, and coming around the table for a closer look. "Is it human?"

Fury used his pointer to circle the beasts face, "What you are seeing there, used to be called Dr. Bruce Banner."

"What?!" exclaimed Hank, "Bruce Banner? The nuclear physicist and world's foremost radiologist?"

"Correct again Mr. Pym, gold sticker for you. What you may not know because it was positively buried by official reports, was that Dr. Banner was involved in a catastrophic accident weeks ago out in the desert. The test run of a gamma bomb was interrupted when a civilian found his way into the area during the countdown process. Dr. Banner heroically risked his life to save the young man, but was exposed himself to the energy blast.

Instead of being killed instantly, like you might think, his body was transformed at the cellular level. His biology became highly reactive to stimuli, adrenaline, and anger. And when I say 'highly reactive', I mean this."

The picture became a video, nosier than the war footage. The vantage was from a soldier's helmet cam, and was difficult to follow at times. It showed a team of heavily armed military personnel moving down a paved hall, rushing towards an epicenter of demolished vehicles and rubble. A blur of green fury jumped across the picture, and a plume of fire and smoke exploded from the right side of the picture.

A rumbling growl preceded a feral roar that spiked the HUD audio readings. The same figure from the photo lumbered out of the smoke, his chest heaving and teeth bared, he must have towered above the camera-wearer by a good 4-5 feet. All of it bristling with pale green muscle.

"FIRE! FIRE!" One of the men off camera yelled before several rifles opened-up at the beast. It raised its hands to protect its face, but the rest of the bullets deflected harmlessly off its body. Apparently angered further by the assault, the monster brought his hands together with enough power to create a shockwave that bowled all the men off their feet.

The next sound other than the labored breathing of the men, was the ponderous steps of the brute. A huge hand came into the shot, and plucked the camera wearer off the ground, held up for examination. What filled the picture was the grimace of pure rage, a massive, brutalized face, eyes glaring at the hapless soldier.

"HULK SMASH LITTLE MAN!" The monster yelled, spittle flying, before the video went to a smear of colors, then finally black.

"Hulk?" Janet asked.

"That's what Dr. Banner's alter ego calls itself, 'The Hulk'. Capable of ripping a tank in half, and surviving a sidewinder missile without a scratch."

On the screen, a satellite view of the American southwest popped-up, with several red dots forming a rough path across the map from right to left.

"Since the initial incident, a special task-force known as the 'Hulk-Busters' was formed under the command of General Thaddeus Ross to deal with the Hulk, and over the course of the past few weeks they've engaged in several conflicts in the Southwest. All of which ended in failure."

"So do you want us to do?" Iron Man asked.

"Take down the Hulk. Didn't I imply that?" Fury shot back.

"How do you expect us to take down that thing?" an exasperated Janet probed, her face incredulous as she walked around the table.

Iron Man raised a palm in her direction halting her from coming closer. "To be fair, it'd be mostly me fighting that thing. Isn't that right Nick?" he turned to ask the director.

But Fury merely shrugged, "That's up to you all. See, Where Ross tried to come down with a concrete, no-fail plan, that failed every time, I want people who can think on their feet, be creative, think outside the box."

"Have special powers?" Janet chirped, arms folded across her chest.

"Oh that's a big help sure, not gonna lie. But if I can get a group of very special individuals, and mold them into a team, then-"

Fury was cut off by the sound of klaxons, an emergency message sprawled across the massive screen. Immediately he put his finger to his ear, trying to listen to someone on the other end. Hank joined Janet at her side, putting an arms around her shoulders for reassurance.

Iron Man spared them a glance before observing the worried twist in Fury's face.

"What is it Fury? HYDRA retaliating?"

The Director mulled his thoughts for a moment before exhaling, "Guess you bunch get a little trial run."

The shouts of men echoed through the darkened hallway, the red emergency lights flashing. A set double-door was blown off its hinges by the force of two SHIELD security agents being projected through them hard enough to slam into the opposite wall. They collapsed in a heap and laid there groaning as another figure ran past them.

The man was partially clothed, and what he was wearing was severely damaged by time and water exposure, and the effects of some harsh explosion had left bits of them charred and torn. Carried on his left forearm, was a large round shield.

Steve Rogers turned his head down one side of the hallway, then to the other. His breathing was labored, as if he hadn't used his lungs in years. His eyes were wide with alarm but also keen with perception, and analyzed everything in his immediate surroundings. Picking a direction, he bolted to his right and fled down the hall.

"We've got to contain him before he opens a door to something dangerous!" Fury shouted as he, Janet, and Hank hurried down the stairwell.

"What kind of dangerous things do you have in this place?" Janet asked between breaths.

"We got all sorts, I just don't want it to be something that he's gonna use to start blasting holes in the walls!"

Behind the others, Pym ran through resolution scenarios in his head "This must be a severely traumatizing experience for him, if we can just slow him down long enough to talk to him, we should be able to get him in restraints until his shock wears off."

"Kid…" Fury started with a chuckle, "The whole German army couldn't restrain Captain America."

Coming to the landing of another floor, Fury reached for the doorway to access the level, but it was pushed open hard from the other side, knocking him against the guardrail. Still huffing to catch his breath, Steve Rogers held his shield in front of him as he swiftly maneuvered around the downed Fury, and brushed aside Janet and Hank.

Janet yelped as she threw herself to the wall just in time to avoid being hit by the shield, but Hank wasn't as quick. Taking a passing blow from the shield, Hank actually clung on to it, haphazardly trying to slow the soldier down with his bodyweight.

"Captain Rogers! Please just-!"

But with heave, Hank was sent flying back down the steps and tumbling onto Janet. Rogers got to the top of the stairwell, and paused to look out the window, but there wasn't much to see beside the ocean horizon. Until Iron Man came crashing through it.

Tackling Rogers around the waist, Iron Man took him up the next set of stairs, and through the access door, where he pinned Cap to the wall by his wrists.

"Captain America! You've got to slow down and listen!"

Cap sneered in return, "I'm not listening to anything one of Zola's thugs has to say!"

"Zola?" was all Iron man got out before Captain America tucked his knees into his chest and planted his boots into his opponent's chest. With a shove, Iron Man was pushed back to the doorway. Rogers threw the shield at his forehead, where it dinged off with a grunt from the man in armor, and right back into Cap's hands. With a short sprint, the Captain buried a single-leg dropkick in Iron Mans chest, sending him sprawling back down the stairwell.

Rushing his way further down the hall, the windows on his left side were blocked by the metal plates that slammed down just as fast as he raced by them. Several agents appeared from adjoining rooms to stop him, but one after another they were dealt with by reflexes untarnished by decades of confinement. With a trail of unconscious suits behind him, he came to a stop at an intersection, unsure of where to go when a barrage of tiny yellow blasts peppered the back of his legs. He turned to parry an oncoming blow with his shield, but it never came.

Instead Janet deftly buzzed between his legs and positioned herself in the center of the intersection. As Rogers turned to face her, she put her hands up defensively.

"Captain America wait!"

"I don't know who you are miss, or where I am, just tell me what you did with Bucky." he asked angrily, poised to lash out at any angle.

"Bucky?" She said aloud, confused at first, but then she realized what must be going through his head. "Just… just watch, ok?"

Slowly, she turned her hands to her right, towards a plated-up window. She fired a twin salvo of her stinger blasts, knocking a hole through the plate and exposing a gap to the outside.

Rogers, who had used his shield to protect himself from the blast, warily peeked over the edge, he had to squint his eyes to bear the sunlight beaming through.

"Just look." Janet coaxed him. "Just look where you are."

Steve Rogers approached the gap, it wasn't big enough to jump through, but it did offer a decent view of the bay. Outside he could see the New York waterfront, and very prominently, the Statue of Liberty.

"I'm… I'm home?" He asked aloud to no one, lowering his shield. He staggered closer to the gap, staring incredulously as his mind constructed the reality of his present circumstance.

"Yes Captain, you're home." Coming down the hall, Nick Fury was held-up by Hank, Iron Man just behind them both.

"You've been asleep a long time. We need to talk."

Rogers stumbled backwards, using the shield to prop himself up as he went to a knee. "Bucky..." he said again, "Bucky…".

Janet knelt down to his side, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"You um… you want a coffee or something?"


	5. Chapter 4: SMASH LAS VEGAS!

**QUINJET 515**

 **OVER ARIZONA AIRSPACE**

 **2136 hrs.**

 _What do they think I'm supposed to do here?_

Sitting by himself at the end of the row of seats, Steve Rogers clutched the edges of his shield in contemplation. He was leaned forward in his seat, the concave side of the shield up against his knees. This was the first time he could remember harboring such doubts, but then again, he had just woken up after almost 70 years, so maybe he was entitled to some existential questions.

Days ago, after they had gotten him to calm down, Fury and the others had filled him in on several vital areas. Firstly, the fate of best friend. They had never recovered Bucky's body, never even found a trace. While millions of dollars were spent trying to recover Captain America, the authorities at the time considered Bucky KIA, lost to the frozen waters of the north Atlantic.

They had given him as much time as he needed to get cleaned-up, a shower, some clean clothes. But he had found the process of going about normal activities maddingly frustrating. Not because he was having any difficulty with them, his motor skills and cognitive functions were just as efficient as they should be. Rather, it all struck him as, somehow wrong. That he should be transplanted decades into the future, while virtually everyone he knew and loved was dead, and just pick-up like it's just another day seemed perverse.

So after trashing the room they provided for him, Fury offered an outlet, something familiar that could bring some sense of peace. Here in the Quinjet, which Steve regarded with a degree of awe since it was basically space-age technology for him, he sat like he did many times waiting to hit the drop zone. While the tools for the job might have been upgraded, the job itself remained much the same.

Even though it seemed like only a few days ago, it had been generations since he was in combat. It didn't surprise him that warfare had evolved since then, but it was disheartening in the extreme to learn that HYDRA has evolved right along with it. And then there were the incidents with the Mutants. People with extraordinary powers that made super-soldiers look normal had popped-up all over the world, and caused all kinds of chaos. The 90's especially had seen tremendous upheaval in America, culminating in the coordinated attack in September, 2011 a few years ago.

But while there remained issues with the feuding mutant factions and the government, Fury was more broad-sighted than his contemporaries. Rogers wasn't quite sure what to make of it all, but if the girl Janet was any indication, then mutants were just as normal as anybody else.

"Drop in 10!" Called the pilot from the front. Hank and Janet shifted in their seats, still looking over the new suits Fury had provided them. He had been provided one as well, with more armor and padding than his old one, but kept the red, white & blue scheme. At first he considered it out-of-place among all the modern uniforms and weapons. But Fury was adamant that standing-out was the point entirely.

He exhaled, thinking over the mission that Fury had laid out for them. He hadn't been obligated to go, but he couldn't stand another day cooped-up in the Triskelion. But putting him back in the field against HYDRA, or even rogue mutants would have to wait. Right now, there was a very unique problem heading for Las Vegas, a problem called The Hulk.

Their mission was to prevent the Hulk from entering the city and causing millions of dollars in damage, and putting thousands of lives at risk. They would link-up with a forward observer, one of Fury's agents who had been tracking the Hulk before they moved to intercept. Janet, Hank and himself would be dropped off outside the city limits, while Iron Man would circle around and meet them at the rendezvous point. The plan was for Cap, Hank, and Janet to provide distraction while Iron Man would do any necessary fighting.

Footage of what the Hulk was capable of imbued them all with a token sense of what they were facing. But Cap had seen enough hand-to-hand brutality to know that the power coursing through those hands couldn't be appreciated for what it truly was in video, incredible.

"You alright over there Captain Rogers?" Janet called over. She and Hank were sitting opposite him, on the other side and right behind the cockpit. She and Hank had been friendly enough during the last few days, but there was just such a gap between them it was hard for Cap to make any connection. They were just kids compared to him. Hell, great-grandkids. Their uniforms were different; his was mainly black with dark red portions, designed around the device that controlled the Proto-particles, diffusing them around his body. Hers was designed to work with her mutant ability, and was much more streamlined to allow flexibility for her flying. And since she was a budding fashion designer, she added a few yellow accents in several places; along the abdomen, gloves, and boots.

"Doin' fine Jan." he answered, more or less accurately. "Are you two ready for this?"

"Can't wait to give it a shot!" Janet enthusiastically chirped.

"I just hope we can bring Hulk down with minimum damage."

Hank sounded less confident, but more rational about the whole thing. Steve had seen these types before on the eve of battle. The loud, the quiet, the spunky, the reserved, they all played their part, and tonight was no different. They had gone through several plans, the most obvious of which was to use the Pym particles. But after a lengthy explanation with more math than Steve could pay attention to, it was clarified that a smaller Hulk would be much denser, making him heavier and stronger.

After going over the failed Hulkbuster tactics, they decided on a very simple plan of action. Knock the Hulk out. To that end, the particles could come into play. They just had to avoid being pulverized long enough.

"Approaching the drop zone!"

With go time announced, Captain America got to his feet, flexing his hands. The loading ramp of the Quinjet began lowering with a hydraulic humming sound, the dry warmth of the desert air filling the cabin. Hank and Janet walked over to join him, shaking the nerves out of their own limbs. Cap could see that Pym was staring hard at the floor, a sign of unease he'd seen a hundred times.

"You gonna be alright Hank?" he asked.

Pym gave him a startled expression before nodding his head, "Yeah."

"You ever been in a fight before?" Rogers followed-up.

"Uh…. No. Well, not until they other day."

"You'll be alright." Cap said with reassurance. "Let me and Iron Man do the fighting. You guys just keep him diverted."

Janet smiled and offered a salute. "You're the captain!"

Steve Rogers returned the smile with curt nod before strolling down the ramp and stepping off the end. He plummeted into the night sky head-first before putting his shield in front to buffer the wind. For a few seconds Hank and Janet just stared at the empty space.

"Now or never!" The pilot yelled, slapping them out of the stupor.

"Did he just walk out without a parachute?" Hank asked, pointing a finger in the direction of the exit.

Janet took in hand the carabineer attached to the belly of her harness, and clipped it to the same spot on Hank's.

'Looks like, Hank. Now hold on!"

Hank pressed the button on his forearm panel, shrinking himself at the same time Janet shrunk herself. Holding onto each other, they flew out of the opening and into the air.

The desert night was cool and quiet, the lights of Sin City in the distance creating a surreal sight in the harsh environment.

Nestled in among the low sand dunes, a pair of binoculars stuck out from a tan camouflaged sheet that rustled lightly in the breeze.

Some distance away from the encampment, a figure fell from the sky in a streak, hit the ground, and rolled to a stop. Kneeling out of instinct to keep his profile low, Captain America had to remember that he was in the United States, and that disguising himself from an enemy wasn't necessary. He rose to his feet and examined the area, the rendezvous with Fury's scout should be in the general area.

A blinking light some fifty meters to his right drew his attention to a small mound. It was blended so well that even he might have overlooked it without the signal. But all the same, he approached it carefully, due to the covert nature of the agent's status, Fury hadn't provided any information about them.

He stopped a few paces away from what he could now tell was just a painted tarpaulin.

"Thunder." Came a voice from underneath the covering, issuing the verbal challenge.

"Lighting." Cap answered back with the password. The tarp shifted, folding back under a black-clad arm to reveal a slim but plainly female shape dressed in remarkably form-fitting black tactical gear and a hood, from under which curled strands of red hair peeked. A pair of colored ballistic glasses concealed her eyes.

"A pleasure to meet you Captain." Came the Russian flavored voice as she sat-up on her knees. With just the light of the waning moon to aid her, she gave Cap a once-over. "I had heard the stories, seen the pictures, but I didn't think you would be so… tall."

Cap bristled awkwardly under the woman's scrutiny, "Glad I could exceed your expectations, agent…"

"Romanov, Natasha." She stood, taking off her glasses to reveal piercing green pupils. "Or as I am known in other circles, Black Widow."

"Black Widow huh?" Rogers mused, "You must be a local girl."

A sly smile crept across her face and she pushed the hood off her head, "I am whatever I need to be. Though I am wondering when our teammates are going to introduce themselves."

Cap turned over his right shoulder, and saw Janet and Hank standing a few meters away. Janet raised a hand and waved her fingers.

"I just wasn't sure how to break the ice." She giggled nervously.

"Pym, Jan," Cap began, "This is Agent Romanov, or, Black Widow. Whatever she prefers."

Hank nodded his head, "Nice to meet you, Ms, ah, Widow."

"You two will also need code names at some point." Romanov said with professional candor, "Calling you Hank and Janet in the field will not do."

Janet raised her hand excitedly, "Oo, oo! I know what my name is, I wanna be 'The Wasp'! I thought about it all last night."

"Hmm, Fitting enough." Widow remarked, before turning to Pym. "And what arthropod will you be?"

Hank sputtered in thought, "Well, I haven't given it much thought really…"

"Tell you what Mr. Pym." Romanov said teasingly, "You have 24 hours to pick a name, or we'll have Janet pick one for you."

"Yes!" Wasp exclaimed, pumping her fist. "Just you wait Hank!" she warned with a pointed finger "I've got a whole list of 'em."

"Sounds like you guys are having a good time down there." came the disembodied voice through the intercoms located in the ear-pieces. The distorted speech telling them that Iron Man was close by.

"But there is a mean, green, wrecking machine headed our way."

Cap put a finger to his ear, "Iron Man, where are you?"

"I'm keeping a wide loop Cap, I don't want him to see me coming if-slash-when we have to engage." Soaring through the dark sky, Iron Man was scanning the ground for hundreds of meters for any trace signature of Gamma radiation. Facing eastward, his HUD focused in on a moving object in the distance. "And it looks like our playmate is about to knock on our door."

"He's right." Widow confirmed with a hand-held device that looked like a GPS tracker, "I've been using SHIELD satellites to track him since Fury assigned me. This is why I placed our link-up site directly in his path of travel."

"Right! So how exactly do we stop Hulk?" Wasp asked.

No one had officially been tagged as team leader, but his instincts kicked in, and Captain America formulated a plan.

"Widow and Pym fall back, draw his attention if he gets ugly for us."

"You mean, like a rodeo clown?" Hank said aloud.

"Me and Janet will stay here and try to turn him back." Turning to the much younger woman, Cap leveled his gaze at her, "I don't want you to get too close, keep your wings out, watch his every twitch."

"You got it Cap." She said with a smart salute.

"You know you don't have to do that right Wasp?"

Circling the group from above, Iron Man watched them standing around with his telescopic visuals.

"Iron Man," Cap continued, "When you come in, come in hard. We've seen what he can take, don't hold anything back,"

"Believe me Rogers, not gonna be a problem." pitching to his right, Iron Man disabled his outgoing com-link. "Alright JARVIS, track biometrics and boost combat efficiency."

"As you wish, Sir."

Back on the ground, Romanov collected her things in a black backpack, and slung it over her shoulder. The long shape of a rifle strapped to the side of the bag. Turning towards the city, she started off.

"Follow me Pym."

"Right behind you." Hank called, falling in step behind her.

The echo of something slamming into the ground caused Rogers and Wasp to face east. By the faint sound they could tell Hulk was still some distance away, but like thunder, it was getting closer every time.

"I'll try talking to it." Cap said, his mind going through a dozen scenarios how this thing would play out. All of them involved a lot of dodging.

With the next impact of Hulk hitting the ground, they felt the reverberations through their feet. It was show time. Cap glanced back to see Janet standing about 20 meters to his rear left, clutching her hand to her chest. The moonlight only illuminated part of her face, but he could tell she was tense.

"So why did you agree to do this?" he asked her.

Her head snapped over to him, and hesitated. "Believe it or not Cap, I've never lived a very exciting life. I never wanted to attract all that much attention to myself because of the whole mutant thing. So when Fury offered us the chance to do something that matters, something to show that people like me can do good, I kinda took it as an obligation."

"That's very noble of you Jan." Cap told her. "What about Hank?"

"He's doing it because I'm doing it."

Nodding his head, Rogers let a small chortle escape. "Oldest motivation in the book."

Breaking the mood, a roar began to fill the air, coming from above it got louder and louder by the second. It culminated when a massive figure crashed into the ground a few meters from where Cap stood, throwing up a shroud of dust and sand, cratering the soil. Steve Rogers staggered back a step, taking in the size of the beast.

Hulk stood there, his chest heaving, breathing in deep grunts that demonstrated the enormity of his upper body. He took a step out of the pit, and grit his teeth as he took another in Roger's direction.

"Hulk," Cap spoke cautiously, "I need to talk to you, can you understand me?"

Tilting his head, Hulk _huffed_ like a gorilla establishing boundaries.

"Star Man talk to Hulk?" he grunted.

"Yes." Cap said with a reassuring tone, "Star Man talk to Hulk. I want to help you."

Hulk recoiled slightly, the twitches in his face telling Cap that he was confused. _Had no one thought to just speak to him before?_ Cap wondered.

"Star Man, help Hulk? Why Star Man help Hulk?"

"Because I know Hulk doesn't want to hurt innocent people. So Wasp and I want to keep Hulk safe."

With a grunt, Hulk glanced over at Janet, who waved a single hand slowly.

"{ _HRUNT}_ Star Man no help Hulk."

Cap's face fell slightly, not understanding what went wrong, but not giving up just yet.

"Why not Hulk?"

The Hulk's shoulders lolled, and he exhaled with a bit of sadness, "Star Man, help Hulk, help Betty."

Cap had heard that name before, in the mission briefing. One of Banner's fellow scientists on the Gamma bomb project had been Elizabeth Ross, whom was known as Betty to her coworkers. It was also disclosed that Bruce and Betty has been engaging in an illicit affair. But the report said that she was perfectly fine, still working for the US Army. If Hulk was worried about her welfare, then Banner must still be in there somewhere.

"What about Betty, Hulk? Is she in danger?"

Hulk didn't answer, instead he turned away to stare off into the desert.

"What does Betty need help with?" Cap pushed, "Dr. Banner, how do we help-"

At the mention of his alter-ego's name, Hulk whipped around, now enraged.

"HULK HATE PUNY BANNER! HRRRAAAAAAAWWWW!"

Captain Rogers had just enough time to put his shield in front of him when the Hulk pulled back his right arm, and drove it forward. The massive fist hit the shield with a resounding clang, shoving Cap back a full meter as his heels left runnels in the sand.

"Negotiations gone south!" Cap yelled into his coms, leaping to his right to avoid Hulk's left fist. "Iron Man, pick your spot!"

Hulk rushed forward faster than Rogers anticipated, and while he was able to dodge a back hand, his shield was grabbed, and he was flung bodily upwards, then whip-lashed down.

"HULK SMASH STAR-MAN!"

Hulk raised his fists above his head, but before he could bring them down onto the prone soldier, a blinding flash of yellow light hit him in the back, eliciting a painful cry. Behind Hulk, Wasp stood poised with her arms extended and still glowing with stinger energy.

"We don't wanna fight you Hulk!" She yelled.

Snarling as he turned to her, Hulk flexed his right shoulder, "Puny Wasp-girl hit Hulk, Hulk squash puny Wasp-girl!"

Hulk lashed out to grab her, but Wasp shrunk down and evaded the fingers, buzzing out of his reach. As Hulk looked left and right to try and snatch the tiny fairy, Captain Rogers watched the skies for any sign of their partner.

"Iron Man! Where are you?"

"Put his chin up for me Cap!" surprisingly came the modulated voice.

"No problem." Cap muttered. Taking his shield in his hand, he threw it like a Frisbee into the center of Hulk's broad back where it ricocheted off with a clang, and back into his grip.

Hulk turned with a lunge, but Rogers rolled under the arm, and coiled himself under the shield. When Hulk turned in his direction, Cap launched himself upwards, drilling the Vibranium-Adamantium weapon into his chin with a resounding _gooung._

As Cap compressed his body behind the shield to counteract the inertia, Iron Man swept in under him and tackled Hulk around the waist, leaving Cap to hit the ground on all fours.

Sailing through the air, Hulk bellowed as the flight arc turned skyward.

Wasp skidded to a halt next to Captain America, both of them watching the trail of light reach a peak before sharply descending into the ground.

Iron Man slammed Hulk back-first into the earth with a booming impact, gouging out dirt like a meteor strike. Jetting backwards, the Repulsor unit in Iron Man's chest ignited, shooting out a torrent of white power. The beam lasted for five seconds before shutting off to leave a groaning Hulk in a cloud of dust and smoke.

"There. That wasn't so bad. JARVIS scan for vitals, and um…. schedule a masseuse for when I get home."

"Subject is still breathing, heart rate stabilized. And would you like Kiriko, or someone new?"

"Hmmm. I think I'm in the mood for Swedish."

"Very good sir, I'll schedule Inga for you."

"Fantastic." Iron Man sad as he turned to where he had left Rogers and Wasp. "Now for the ceremonial gloating."

"Uh, Sir, Hulk is awake."

"What?-" Iron Man had no time to maneuver as Hulk reached up, grabbed him by the ankles and yanked him out of the air. The man in the suit yelped haplessly as Hulk used him to batter the ground like a rag doll, roaring as he did so. With a final slam, Hulk released him, smashing a fist onto Iron Man's chest to pound him another few inches deeper.

"Uhhhh…." Iron Man moaned feebly. "JARVIS…hel-ack!"

Hulk wrapped his hand around Iron Man's head, and lifted him to eye level.

"Metal-Man…" he growled, tightening his grip.

Desperately, Iron Man fired both palm-repulsors at Hulk to free himself, but it wasn't enough, and the helmet began to crack.

Suddenly Hulk's body convulsed and he lurched forward, dropping Iron Man, and putting a hand on the right side of his ribs where blood trickled down in a rivulet.

A thousand yards away, Natasha Romanov worked the bolt action of her rifle, ejecting the spent cartridge, and loading a new round into the chamber. Kneeling next to her, Hank lowered the night-vision binoculars with an impressed whistle.

"Great shot! But how did the bullet pierce his skin?"

"Adamantium-tipped bullets." Widow said, still focused through the rifle's scope. "They can punch through anything."

Pym raised the optical back to his face, "Do you think it'll stop him?"

"No" she said flatly. "Because he is coming this way." Scampering to her feet, she hastily disassembled the rifle.

"How does he know where we are?" Hank asked, putting the optics back to his eyes in time to see Hulk leaping in his direction.

Widow packed the rifle parts in the bag and slung it over her shoulder. "He's angry, not stupid, he can tell which direction a shot came from."

"So what do we do?" a frantic Pym pleaded.

Romanov went over to a mound, and reaching down, tore away another camouflaged tarp, this one covering a dirt bike.

"We ride like hell. Get on."

No sooner was the bike upright and both of them seated, did Hulk land 10 meters away from them, spittle flying as he hollered. The bike revved to life and sped off, leaving nothing but a shower of sand for Hulk to swing through as he appeared where they had been.

"Widow!" Came Cap's voice through the comlink, "Try and lead him away from Vegas!"

Checking her side mirror, Natasha saw the green monster chasing after her, and he was gaining.

"I'll try!"

Glancing back himself, Hank could see Hulk closing the gap between them.

"We're too slow!"

"Shrink down!" She yelled back to him.

"I won't be any lighter!" He called back, reminding her that the proto-particles made him smaller but also denser.

"You don't need to be! Shrink down and get clear to the side!"

Realizing what her idea was, Pym immediately struck the button on his wrist panel. Disappearing in a wave of light, Hank jumped to the left side of the bike, hitting the ground at a roll just in time to avoid the stomping foot of the Hulk. He sat on the ground, watching as they sped off, relieved to be out of harm's way, but dissatisfied that he hadn't actually done anything yet.

He was getting to his feet when he heard an eerie sound approaching from behind him. When he spun around he was terrified to see the gnashing mandibles of an ant looming over him. He didn't know what kind it was, he just knew it was the size of a Clydesdale, and liable to take him back to the colony to be eaten. The beast loosed a warbled shriek and that was enough motivation for Hank to return to his normal height.

Even with everything that was happening around him, the sight of the ant stuck in his mind. Then his thoughts created a new thought, and another, forming a chain of ideas that began to coalesce into a kernel of something greater. It was a similar process that led him to develop the proto-particles.

He was so lost in thought he didn't notice Iron Man until he zoomed by, carrying Captain America in pursuit of Hulk. He jumped back reflexively, and nearly bumped into Janet as she came up behind him, exhausted and growing to her full size.

"Come on Hank! Keep up!" Again, she buckled Pym's suit to her own, and the pair shrunk in unison, following the others.

After Pym had ejected himself, Black Widow felt the bike become noticeably lighter, picking up speed. Now with better control, she began to steer in a serpentine pattern to keep Hulk from catching her, and led him off to the right, trying to lure him away from the city. It had been a long time since she was in a chase this hot, must have been weeks, but despite the exhilaration of the adrenaline rush, she kept her mission in mind and her grip on the throttle.

Iron Man held Captain Rogers underneath him, back-to-belly, rocketing after the gamma-goliath. Cap held his shield against his chest, trying to minimize the drag in flight. He spared Hank Pym a glance as they shot past him in a blur, hoping that Widow knew what she was doing by separating from her team-mate.

His helmet sparking in places, Iron Man's HUD tracked Hulk as he dashed through the desert. He hated to admit that he had come unprepared to fight the monster, and if there was one thing he prided himself on, it was finding the variables, and being prepared. At least now he had others for his ego to shift some blame onto.

Leaning the bike carefully, Natasha Romanov's eyes darted left to the southwest, to the lights of Vegas, being wary not to let the bike spin-out in the loose soil. Checking the side-mirror on the right, she cursed in Russian when she saw Hulk snatch a stone in stride. She knew what was coming.

With a shout, Hulk hurled a stone the size of a watermelon at Black Widow, anticipating the bike's movement. She tried to weave away, but the rock clipped the rear tire, and sent the vehicle spiraling out of control. Romanov launched herself away from the bike to avoid being crushed, tumbling as best she could over the bumpy ground, continuing to curse in her mother tongue with every hit.

She rolled into a kneeling position, making sure to keep Hulk where she could see him, and waited for him to get close.

"We're almost there Widow!" she heard Iron Man say through her earcom.

She hoped that was true as she raised her fists, the outline of Hulk thundering towards her, the gauntlets mounted on her wrists illuminated with red accents along the rims. As Hulk got to within 20 paces, she fired a barrage of red bolts from them that splattered across his face and forced him to a clumsy halt to protect his eyes.

And it was just enough time for Iron Man to propel Captain America shield first into Hulk's back to knock him off balance. While Hulk stumbled, Iron Man grabbed into the sides of his head, yanked him off the ground, and tossed him in the air. A Unibeam blast struck Hulk dead on and sent him colliding into a rock face.

"That oughta buy us a minute." Iron Man said as he hovered down to the others, "I don't know what this guy's made of, but I want a suit made out of it."

As Hank and Janet joined the rest, Captain Rogers took stock of their situation.

"We can't keep throwing ourselves at him like this, we're not doing enough damage."

"Got anymore of those Adamantium bullets Widow?" Hank asked as Romanov limped to the circle.

"Plenty, but none will do us any good if we can't keep him still."

"Is that what this is about?" Cap asked angrily, taking a few steps towards Widow. "I thought we were here to stop Hulk, not hunt him down and kill him."

"If you hadn't noticed Captain, he didn't seem very slowed down by the shot I took. And my orders were that a lethal shot would be a last resort only."

Rogers didn't like the sound of that, even less so because Fury had neglected to share that information with him.

"And just what constitutes a 'last resort' anyway? And why does he think Betty Ross needs help?" he demanded.

Before Widow could respond, a booming roar signaled the revival of the Hulk. Through his scanners, Iron Man watched the figure leap away from the mountain side, and towards the city.

"He's headed to Vegas!" he cried out before rocketing off.

"Something like _that_ , Captain." Romanov said before making a b-line for her overturned cycle.

Rogers looked to Janet and Hank who just stared back at him, waiting to be told what to do.

"Go on ahead, help contain, get civilians out of the way, do whatever you have to do." He instructed them.

"What about you?" Hank asked him as he linked his suit to Janet's.

"I'll catch-up." was all the old soldier said.

Hulk landed a few hundred yards from the edge of the city, his eyes focused forward, and leapt off again.

A few seconds behind him, Iron Man crossed over the same spot. His internal HUD compositing thermal scans and camera footage to take stock of the surrounding population in danger.

"JARVIS, Contact first responders, tell them to try and clear civilians, and DO NOT attempt to engage Hulk. In the meantime, any fire alarms we can trip? Emergency lights? Anything that'll get people moving out of the area."

"Doing that now Sir, but I would advise against you engaging him any further. He can peel you right out of the armor.

"Somebody's got to keep him occupied. I'll just have to stay out of reach."

"Good luck with that Sir."

Hulk barreled through an intersection, shouldering aside an SUV filled with a screaming family. He turned about frantically, searching for something without finding it. A taxi cab coming through was forced to bank hard to the right, the squeal of the tires gaining Hulk's attention. Bellowing at the intrusion to his mission, Hulk turned and caught the car in his hands, lifting it above the ground to scream at the driver. It was in the windshield, ignoring the terrified face of the driver, that Hulk saw the reflection of Iron Man coming up behind him.

Dropping the cab, Hulk pivoted and brought two forearms slamming down into the pavement, just short of crushing Iron Man under them. Hulk looked up to see the center of the armor glowing a second before the Unibeam collided into is face.

Thrown back into a storefront, Hulk thrashed among cheap Chinese porcelain cats and dangling trinkets.

Iron Man hovered in the center of the intersection, hands raised in a pleading manner.

"Give us some space people, he doesn't like to play well with others!"

A roar from the china shop, and Hulk was peeling himself from the wreckage, wiping a gathering of slobber from the side of his mouth.

"Ok ugly." Iron Man said, cranking his neck. "Double or nothing."

With a roar, Hulk launched himself at Iron Man, and was met by a pair of repulsors.

Atop a building that advertised poker and legs in neon lights, Hank and Janet perched to get a high view of the brawl that was spilling into a gift shop. They watched as Hulk took Iron Man in both hands, only for Iron Man to level the boots thrusters into his face, repelling him.

"Civilians?" Hank asked her.

"Civilians." she answered.

In the street surrounded by walls of neon lights, Hulk bared his shoulder through a barrage of small explosives to make a grab for the hovering Iron Man who remained just out of reach. Throngs of people surrounding them, gawking, hundreds of flashes of pictures adding to the surreal theatricality of the battleground.

"Sure would be nice if I had a team to help me out!" Iron Man exclaimed, catching a red sedan before it could demolish a casino facade that hung above dozens of onlookers. The car slammed against him with a groan, but a second after came Hulk punching through the vehicle to knock him into the building, Hulk after him.

As the sounds of crashing and breaking signified the fight continuing, the car fell directly towards the awning. The crowd gasped in panic as it tumbled end-over-end, those on the edges managed to flee in every direction, but a hapless few wouldn't make it, collapsing over themselves to get away.

But as they huddled on top of each other in a reflexive move to protect themselves, the car exploded in a shower of flame and shrapnel, the blast of yellow energy dispersing the fragments. A shard of jagged metal cut through the air and threatened to impale itself into the back of middle-aged man, but it was knocked away at the last second by a tiny figure who leaped from person to person, deflecting debris.

As the crowd dispersed, Janet and Hank watched for any more signs of the public in danger, but thankfully the near-fatal catastrophe had served to frighten most of them away. The casino trembled from the shocks of the fight taking place in the upper floors, a flash of light preceding an angry roar.

"Iron Man needs help!" Janet said, wincing at the sound of walls being broken through. "Hulk is going to crumple him up like tinfoil."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence!" Came Iron Man's voice through the earcoms. Janet stiffened, having forgotten that the comlink was open.

"Coming!" She said, shrinking and flying up to the cavity in the building.

Hank was left standing there, his fist tightening with frustration at not being able to aid his teammates. Then a daring inspiration seized him, one that had been tugging at him since he first demonstrated his proto-particles. He wished had brought some of his tools, but the situation demanded some audacity. He opened one of the other compartments on his wrist panel, and began making adjustments.

A loud explosion from inside the casino, and Iron Man was blasted through an external wall and out of sight somewhere over the next block. A second later Hulk was mid-air following after him, filling the streets with his angry bellow.

Rolling down the Las Vegas strip, Black Widow and Captain America weaved their way through the crowd fleeing in the opposite direction, the rear wheel of the motorbike wobbling slightly. Ahead of them about a hundred meters, they saw Iron Man careen over the street, tumbling end-over-end through the sky, Hulk not a moment behind.

"You didn't happen to bring anything besides those Adamantium rounds did you?" Cap asked her.

"I have big bag, many pockets." Natasha said with a smirk, "I should have a few interesting toys to play with."

Elsewhere, a shiny new silver pick-up truck abandoned in traffic was destroyed when Hulk was driven head-first through the engine block. Iron Man dove by and strafed the vehicle with repulsor blasts that caused the truck to explode in a fireball.

"Power at 16% percent. Armor integrity, er… not well. Sir, I strongly-"

"JARVIS, I can't begin to explain how much I regret not packing a new suit! I've got one last trick before I call it quits."

Getting to his feet among the scattering of wreckage, Hulk tore away the ring of charred metal around his neck.

"Hey Hulk!" He turned to see Captain America throw his shield like a discuss at him. Without blinking, Hulk caught the object in his hands, and looked down at it, where a black pack with a blinking red light was attached to it. Hulk grunted in confusion.

The explosive pack went off, the Vibranium composite in the metal focusing the blast upwards and right into Hulk's face, engulfing him in the detonation.

Romanov, taking a position on the truck of a car, aiming a shorter gun, this one with a much wider barrel. With a grenade round loaded in the muzzle, she fired it directly into Hulk's chest, bowling him over several meters. Slowly, groggily, Hulk got to his feet, and rose to find Iron Man standing before him, the main repulsor charging to fire. The Unibeam struck Hulk for a third time, launching him into the air with a painful cry, where Iron Man raced up to meet him.

Grasping Hulk around the back of his waist, Iron Man angled himself backwards and upside down, bringing Hulk to a tremendous crash landing in a crater of asphalt.

 **MINUTES AGO**

"Come on you guys! You know I'm clean!"

Sitting in a wooden chair, his wrists, ankles and waist secured by duct-tape, a man in nothing but his boxers threw his head back and laughed at his misfortune. A black sack-cloth covered his head, a compliment to the many black and-purple bruises splotched over his body, and the blood that stained the chest between his collar bones.

Around him in the hotel room stood four burly men in black suits and close cropped hair, and one leaner man in a tan suit, with wavy graying-blond hair. The man in tan leaned down to put his head next to the captive, a sneer of contempt cinching his face.

"We know enough to know that you're stealing something from the boss." he said in a low tone." I also know you're not just some stage act. You're working for someone else, and I wanna know who."

"Joey?" the bound man asked, "Joey is that you? I'm telling you, I'm not going behind the boss's back! If I were, then don't you think I'd pick a cover little less conspicuous than-gAK!"

One of the goons standing behind pulled on the cords at the opening of the sack, tightening it around his neck, chocking him. He held it there for several seconds while the man squirmed. Finally the choke was let go, and the bound man gasped for breath.

"It's not gonna get any easier Trickshot." The man in tan warned, "Next step is I start putting my lighter to some of your extremities."

The man in the chair wriggled, "No! No Joey! That's not necessary! I swear to god!"

"Ya know…" the leader said trailing off. "The people we work for don't have a very high tolerance for betrayal, or incompetence. HYDRA isn't know for being very lenient."

"HYDRA?" the man in the chair said aloud as an unintentional question. His posture calming somewhat. "You mean you guys… That I, was working for HYDRA this whole time?"

"'Fraid so Trickshot, and the order came down to make sure you were shooting as straight as one of your arrows."

The man in tan flicked open a lighter, sparked the flame, and brought it slowly close to the exposed fingers that tried to recoil from the heat.

"Alright! Alright!" the man screamed, "I got something to tell you!"

Joey stood erect, and glanced somewhat surprised to his men.

"Go ahead then, talk."

The man in the chair took a few breaths, deciding exactly how he wanted to phrase it.

"My name isn't really Trickshot."

Joey's face panned, and he motioned for his men to move in.

"Put him up."

As the thugs closed around the bound man, the wall exploded, knocking them all over. Hulk and Iron Man brawled across the room and through the opposite wall in a chaotic tornado of debris and fury. Trickshot's chair was toppled, breaking off the right foreleg, and weakening the right arm of the chair.

While the HYDRA agents recovered, Trickshot wrenched the damaged arm free, and removed the hood from his head. His short but stylish blond hair was matted in sweat, and he immediately set to freeing his other hand. He used the jagged end of the broken arm to cut through the duct-tape, and clumsily righted himself with the free leg.

With a grunt of pain he pulled his left hand from the adhesive.

"Ah! That always stings!"

Just as he was coming to a bent-over standing position. The closest thug to him dash to his feet and tackled him back down, where they rolled a few feet in struggle. Trickshot used the length of wood still attached to his right wrist to bash the side of the thugs head until he limply fell off.

Still trying to free his left leg, he spotted another of the HYDRA goons about to stand. Thinking quickly, he grabbed a loose brick from the surrounding rubble and pitched it directly into the man's Adam's apple, dropping him with sickly gurgling sounds to clutch at his throat. Not missing another second, he grabbed the bound leg with both hands and pulled forward until it snapped off the frame.

Now able to stand, albeit at an angle, he caught the next guard to come at him with a spinning back-kick that struck in the gut, and followed it with a right hook to the jaw that dropped the man on the spot.

"ehhh…" Trickshot grumbled, "Two down…."

The man in tan grabbed the top of the chair and forced it to the floor, putting Trickshot on his back. But as Joey attempted to stomp down, his foot was grabbed and twisted, snapping with a loud crack. The man collapsed screaming, to the side.

Rolling back onto his hands and knees, Trickshot used the back of the chair to block a punch from another thug, the man pulling his broken fist back with a yelp. Lunging at his legs, Trickshot hit him with a double-leg takedown, rolling forward and slamming the back of the chair's seat into the thugs face. Sliding off, he bashed his elbow into the HYDRA agents nose until he heard a telling crunch.

An expensive leather shoe crashed into Trickshot's face, the first goon striking furiously despite the limp right arm and blood soaking the same side of his suit. Trickshot got a forearm up in time to block a second blow, and used the momentum from the push to roll himself back over the man with the smashed nose. Getting to his feet, he came up with a shard of wood from a broken beam, and flung it sideways into the man's anterior knee. When he fell onto his good knee, Trickshot rushed forward and somersaulted to bring the back of his chair over the man's head.

The wood shattered between the two men as they compressed against the floor, finally allowing Trickshot to straighten his body. The man under him didn't move as he rolled free, groaning from the sharp pain in his lumbar.

"Ohhhhhh…. I did not need that. Why couldn't it have been a padded chair?"

A scraping sound drew his attention, and looking over he saw Joey shuffling towards him, a long blade in his right hand, and a menacing glare to match. He lunged forward with the knife but it was met by the wood still taped to Trickshot's arm, and bit deep. Twisting to his right, Trickshot wrestled the blade away as Joey was pulled over on top of him. He sunk a few blows into the HYDRA man's liver, trying to get his legs under him to get out from underneath.

The man in tan was unwilling to let go of the knife, and came up with half a brick in his left hand, crossing over himself, he tried to bury it in Trickshot's face. His arm was grabbed by Trickshot's left, and for a few tense moments, the two struggled against each other, their faces snarling inches away.

"I keep telling you Joey…" Trickshot said, "You gotta stop putting all those onions on your sandwiches!"

Trickshot drove a knee into his left side, then delivered a head-but into Joey's eye socket. With his opponent disoriented, he grasped the brick from out of the HYDRA agent's hand, and tried to smash it against his head, but a tricep blocked the way. Trickshot shoved the arm away, and tossed the block in the air, it bounced off the ceiling, and came back down directly on the back of Joey's head.

The man in tan went limp, his body weight just a burden atop Trickshot.

"Ah jee- Come on!" he complained, grappling himself free. He got to his feet and looked back down to see the small pool of blood forming underneath Joey's head.

"So you guys are HYDRA, just my luck."

His focus for the past minute had been solely on what happened in the room, it was now that he stepped over to examine where his saving grace had crashed through the wall. He could hear the sounds of a battle raging on the next block, and wondered just why the hell Iron Man would be brawling with some green monster all over Vegas. He was about to turn away when he spied a motorcycle driving towards the action instead of away from it. And on that bike he saw a familiar face.

"I'm gonna need some pants." He said to himself.

 **CURRENTLY**

Picking up his shield, Captain America approached the crater where Hulk and Iron Man lay. Beside him, Black Widow and Wasp stepped carefully, both knowing that neither of them possessed the defenses of the super-soldier. A bead of sweat ran down Romanov's temple, though she had been in tighter situations, noting had prepared her for something like this. At least mutants had to courtesy to go down when you shot them.

"Iron Man!" Cap called out, not seeing any movement coming from the pit.

"Yeah I'm still alive Rogers." the voice in the earcoms was strained, exhausted, but tinged with thankfulness. "I am gonna need a hand though, the suit is running on fumes."

Rushing up to the edge of the crater, Rogers dipped down to grasp the motionless arm of the suit, and with a grunt, hauled Iron Man to his feet. The suit was marred, dented, and sparking in a few places, the eyelets dark.

"Fortunately for me, air supply is a closed system, and coms is running on a little battery. Otherwise I'd be wearing the world's most expensive coffin."

"I'm sure a guy like you can afford it." Rogers joked. "come on, let's get you out of that thing."

"Actually Cap, if you could just find some charger cables in one of these cars and give the old ticker a jump start, I'd be fine."

"CAP BEHIND YOU! Wasp yelled, but it was too late.

Behind Rogers and Iron Man, Hulk lurched to his feet, and brought his hands together. The shockwave caused by the clap lifted Cap off his feet and flying several yards. Iron Man was knocked over and hit the ground with a crash. Wasp and Widow dove behind cars for cover as a torrent of rubble peppered the opposite sides and shattered through the windows.

"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!" Hulk screamed, the veins in his neck throbbing. He grabbed Iron Man by the legs and jumped away, a wail of terror left echoing behind.

The pair came down in the middle of the Bellagio fountains, throwing up a shower of water. Still holding Iron man by the legs, Hulk dangled him at arm's length.

"GUYS!" Iron Man yelled, "GUYS!"

"Metal Man hurt Hulk!"

With a pivot, Hulk slammed Iron Man into the bottom of the pool, then drove a punch into the back of the armor, plucked him up, then spiked him

"Hulk smash Metal Man!"

Picking up the hapless victim and holding him in his hand, Hulk mercilessly pummeled the armor with several shots. A glancing blow across the head tore off the face plate

The entire ordeal spanned only seconds, but felt like minutes for Iron Man. The sheer fury of the turbulent beating, being rag-dolled like a fox thrashing a rodent, jump started his flight instinct. There was nothing other than the primal urge to flee going through his mind, run from the predator, as far and fast as his body would carry him. But trapping in the dead suit there was nowhere for him to go.

Hulk tossed Iron Man from one hand to the other, and slammed him down into the pool, water threatening to pour over the exposed face. With his left arm holding Iron Man down, Hulk pulled his right back, preparing to deliver the final crushing blow.

"METAL MAN LEAVE HULK ALONE! RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

But as Iron Man gasped for breath and stared wide-eyed at the rage-filled monster about to squeeze him out of the suit, a object blurred across his vision, hit Hulk in the right side of his jaw, and knocked him away.

Hulk tumbled for several yards, and hazily tried to regain his footing.

Iron Man used every muscle in his body to arc himself upwards and get his face out of the water. He gulped for air, and while he couldn't turn his head to see what had saved him, he could hear footsteps padding through the water.

"I did not know there were ogres in Midgard." He heard the voice say. A mess of long blonde hair leaned over him, and he felt someone grip the shoulder of his suit and raise him up.

"A valiant effort brave warrior. It is well that your armor was able to withstand the creature's might."

The man who stepped around to face Iron Man was like something out of a fairy-tale. A metal breastplate over mail that concealed bulging muscles, a long red cape topped by the flowing blonde hair. And a conical helmet with wings on ether side. The man reminded him of all the campy movies about Vikings, and certainly had the chiseled features.

Iron Man could only stare at him confused, "who ahh…"

The man extended his right hand and a hammer came out of nowhere to throw itself into his grip. The hammer had a huge sledge and a relatively short handle.

The sound of Hulk coming around drew the man's attention.

"Frost Giants crumble under the might of Mjolnir. I fear this beast will not be as obliging. But fear not mortal, for Thor Odinson, Prince of Asgard will vanquish the beast!"

Hulk finally locked his eyes onto the interloper, and despite the haggard breathing, made for a charge.

Thor spun his hammer, lightning bolts streaking down to connect to it.

"HAVE AT THEE!" Thor bellowed as he launched himself to meet the Hulk straight-on.

Both combatants were poised to collide, Hulk with his arm cocked back, Thor with Mjolnir in both hands above his head. A they came together, Thor brought his hammer down on Hulk's skull, a bolt of lightning coming down to bolster the blow. The thunder-cracking impact rang out in a blinding flash of light, the water underneath them pushed away by the percussive force.

Iron Man too was nearly toppled by the wind and sent back into the pool, if not for the timing of Janet coming behind to catch him.

"I gotcha!" Wasp exclaimed. Settling him back on his heels, she stepped around, and gasped at the sight of his real face.

"Tony Stark! You're Iron Man?" she asked incredulously.

Smiling nervously, Stark groaned, his secret now uncovered.

"Would you believe I do it for fun?"

Rushing through the streets to try and catch-up to where Hulk and taken Iron Man, Widow followed behind Captain Rogers. As they passed a damaged building front, the façade broke away and hundreds of pounds of masonry plummeted for Romanov. She caught sight of the danger a second before it was set to crush her, but she felt herself tackled out of the way.

"All the places you've been Natasha, only to be killed by a stray wall."

She sat up, and looked at the man who had pushed her out of the way. He was wearing dirtied black slacks, and shiny black loafers with blood stains on the toes.

"Clint?" was her stunned response.

Hank Pym came running up to where Janet was trying to help drag Iron Man out of the fountain. He stopped for a moment, shocked to see the famous billionaire inventor peeking out from inside the Iron Man suit.

"I don't wanna see my face plastered all over the internet, you got that?" Tony said.

"Absolutley! Mr. ah, Stark." Hank picked-up the face-plate and joined Janet in the effort to move Iron Man along.

Captain Rogers approached the unknown figure cautiously. Thor stood over the unconscious body of the Hulk, who himself lay face down on the concrete bed of the pool, water draining though the cracks around his head.

"Who are you, and why did you help us?" Cap asked.

Thor turned to him with a casual smile, "I was nearby and heard the sounds of battle!"

"His name is Thor, apparently." Stark yelled

"Aye." the Asgardian confirmed, "Son of Odin Allfather, Slayer of frost-giants, rock-trolls, and um…" Thor motioned with Mjolnir towards the sleeping Hulk. "Whatever this jade creature be."

"So you were just out looking for a fight, is that it?" Rogers's tone was searching, trying to figure out whether they had traded one threat for another.

"'Twas a fortuitous coincidence, I was searching for my brother and-"

The explanation was cut off by the groaning form the Hulk, and a sudden convulsion that caused his body to flop on the ground. With a sucking gasp for air, the Hulk's body began to shrink, transforming to the normal proportions of a human.

Rogers dashed to the unconscious man left in tattered pants, and pulled him into his arms. The face of Bruce Banner was thin, the physical toll of being the Hulk for so long exhausting to the point of debilitation. Cap could only gaze down in pitiful astonishment.

"My god Dr. Banner…"

"Your Midgard ogres are strange." Thor commented. "Perhaps a curse was laid upon him by some sorcerer?"

Captain America brushed aside the hair matted to Banner's face, feeling his body shiver.

"Yeah, himself."


	6. Chapter 5: Like a Man in a Box

"Sounds like a real mess."

 **SHIELD HELICARRIER,**

 **2210 HOURS, NOV 29**

 **2008**

Maria Hill crushed the plastic cup in her hand. Before her on the table the dozen pictures of the Battle of Las Vegas were laid out in chronological order.

"Almost had all your new toys broken."

Fury shrugged his shoulders and leaned back in his chair, "Yeah, lucky for them a Norse god just so happened to be around to help out."

"About that whole 'god' thing." She began to ask before Fury halted her.

"I don't know if he's really a god or not, the important thing was that he was on our side, at least for this. So in the clean-up I made sure to grease the wheels."

Hill picked-up a picture of Thor, standing next to Captain America with an army of SHIELD and local first responders in the background. "So he was looking for his brother he said?"

"Loki. Norse god of mischief. Turns out he had left a string of his handiwork back in Asgard that Thor had to do damage control on. His trail led here, what they call Midgard, where that mission crossed paths with ours."

"How did everybody else turn out?" She asked, "SHIELD never disclosed how the team licked their wounds afterwards."

Fury made a show of exhaling, "Janet was alright, a bit nervous from all the excitement, but none the worse for wear.

Pym felt useless. He sat in his room for a day staring at his helmet, lamenting that he hadn't really contributed all that much to the effort. To be fair I never thought he'd fight Hulk, just help on the edges.

We tried to debrief Stark immediately after to protect his identity, but he managed to get his suit working enough to fly off before we could stop him. A few days later we finally got the chance to catch-up to him, but he wasn't much in the mood for conversation.

Romanov helped Barton clean himself up after his little mix-up with the local HYDRA boys. Unbeknownst to her, Clint was on a job to find out about the recent surge in blackmarket arms deals in the city when he wound up tied to a chair.

For her part, my best girl Natasha took it all in stride. She's been through a lot, seen some nasty stuff. So this wasn't quite the most dangerous spot she's ever been in. But I did notice something bugging her though. I suppose something about being chased by a giant green rage monsters sticks with ya."

Maria Hill flipped through more of the photos from the scene, and settled on one that showed Steve Rogers holding up Bruce Banner in the center of the activity.

"And these two?"

"Rogers," Fury continued, "He got a good dose of culture shock. Surrounded by the Vegas lights, fighting The Hulk alongside a man in a robot suit, it was something for him to adjust to. I had him take the next day off.

And Banner… hooo boy, was that ever a headache. Millions of dollars in damage, the Army chomping at the bits to get their hands on him. I spent as much time keeping him under SHIELD jurisdiction as I did anything else."

Shuffling the pictures together, Maria took a lingering glance at one that showed the eight future Avengers in the same shot.

"All the pieces were in place then?"

'Eh, not quite." The Director sighed, "That's when things got interesting."

* * *

 **TWO DAYS AFTER THE**

 **LAS VEGAS INCIDENT**

In one of the higher floors of the Triskelion, Steve Rogers stood in front of the massive window that overlooked the Atlantic. The dawning Sun was climbing over the horizon under a colorful layer of atmosphere as the light bent around the edge of the globe. Still wearing his sweaty jogging clothes, he leaned over the back of the couch, head bowed.

The room the had been furnished for him was beyond luxurious, it was easily twice as large as the apartment he grew-up in. the world around him was supposed to be his home town, the very streets he walked when he was a kid. But it all felt so foreign to him, like he had gone from rural Oklahoma to Hong Kong. It was a much different city than the one that he remembered, and there was no escaping the feeling that he didn't belong.

Images in his mind flashed by, the snarling face of the Hulk about to crush him with his bare hands. The wearable science-fiction of Tony Stark shooting lasers from the palms of his hands, able to fly from continent to continent. Janet Pym, as sweet a girl as Steve had ever seen, a mutant able to shrink herself. And Thor, some god from another realm? It was… incredible to think of.

"Something troubles you Captain?"

The voice came from the Asgardian himself, and Steve looked up to see Thor hovering in the air in front of the window, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Is battling ogres not to your liking?"

It was a small gesture, not intended to be funny Steve thought, but it did serve to brighten his mood.

"At this point, fighting an ogre wouldn't be so crazy. It's adjusting to everyday life that's the hard part."

Rogers pressed the button on the side panel, and a section of the window slid aside, allowing Thor to float in.

"Then you must come with me to Asgard one day. I find it far less… uh, vexing than this Midgard."

"Yeah, I've been pretty vexed ever since they woke me up." Rogers said as he sat on the couch. "I go from living in a three-room apartment in the Bronx to living in the future with gods and robots, and people with superpowers."

"Perhaps my own sense of wonder has been dampened." Dropping down on the couch on the opposite end, the framework let out a painful creak under Thor's weight. He set Mjolnir down on the coffee table, where it rested without a sound.

"For in my long life, I have battled many creatures of the several realms. Ogres, dragons, all manner of trolls and giants, elves, and these things have become somewhat mundane for me. Verily, one of the reasons I joined the battle against the one called "The Hulk" was for some sporting battle."

Mentioning this, Thor's attitude dimmed slightly. "Though it seems the might of Mjolnir has laid low this beast as it has so many."

"I think Iron Man may have softened him up for you." Rogers smirked, but Thor waved it off.

"I have felled a bull Bilgesnipe with single blow, this Hulk was no more of a challenge."

At that, Steve had to chuckle to himself, knowing far better what he Hulk was capable of.

"Speaking of Hulk, wherehaps have they sequestered his smaller, frailer self?"

Down below the daylight of the Triskelion, underneath all the offices, decorated lobbies, polished plaques, and guided tours, was The Vault. The surface was an artificial island, sitting atop a flexible stem of an elevator shaft and support columns that rooted it to the seabed where the secondary and arguably more important facility lay.

The Vault was where they kept a number of particularly dangerous characters, under tight lock and key in specially designed containment cells. Several of them were occupied under the watchful eyes of the guards, and one in particular stood by itself in the center of the chamber. Inside, Bruce Banner sat hunched over on his Spartan bad, nothing more than a raised mattress with a sheet and a blanket. His clothes were similar to hospital scrubs, spotless white, and hung off his thin frame. His scraggly brown hair draping over his downcast face.

"What am I looking at Doc?"

Standing outside the chamber, Nick Fury eyeballed his prisoner, the middle-aged man in a lab coat next to him flipped through his clipboard of notes.

"He's malnourished and dehydrated, but nothing too severe considering the length of time he was submerged into the Hulk. Physically he'll be fine enough with a little rest and proper nutrition, but mentally he's shot."

The doctor handed Fury a tablet, showing the up-to-date diagnostics.

"As best we know he's been running around as the Hulk for months without a break. It seems to have a degraded physical effect, but the constant psychological stress has taken a massive toll on him."

"Has he said anything yet?" Fury asked, looking up from the data.

"No, nothing yet. He's taken some half-hearted bites of food, but aside from that he just sits there."

On the wall, about waist height was installed a box with two buttons, and a speaker. Fury tapped on the left button and it illuminated.

"Dr. Banner, my name is Nick Fury, Director of SHIELD. I want you to know that you are not under arrest, but there are some things we need to sort out."

Banner didn't move, continuing to sit there with his hands clasped.

"Is there anything you'd like to tell me Dr. Banner?" Fury asked again, "Anybody you want me to talk to?"

Hearing that, Bruce's head swiveled over in the others direction. His hands gripped one another, but after a moment he wilted back to his original state.

Biting his lip in disappointment, Fury hit the second button and turned to the doctor.

"Is she here yet?"

The man checked his watch, "Should be within the next hour."

"Good." Fury said, handing him back the tablet and turning to leave the cell behind. "Let me know when she gets down here."

"Will do Director." Putting the clipboard and tablet at his side, the doctor continued to stare at the listless former scientist, wonder what his reaction would be later on.

As he walked away, Fury removed his phone from the inside breast pocket of his jacket, pressed a few buttons, and held it to his ear. When the other end finally picked up, he stepped into an alcove just beside one of the inhabited cells. Inside, an unusually tall mandrill dressed like a stage magician ambled up to the glass for a closer look at the Director. Slowly, Fury turned to glance back at the prisoner, who bared it large canine teeth and loosed an unheard cry.

Lashing out in a flash, Fury banged his fist on the translucent wall. Mandrill recoiled, and stepped carefully over to the opposite side of his cage.

"Yeah I'm here, sorry about that." Speaking into his phone, Nick continued to glare at Mandrill for a few seconds. "I was just checking in on our houseguests, they holding up alright?"

"Well enough." Answered the savvy Russian accent. "Janet is starting to get restless, and Hank never wants to stop playing with his tech."

Many floors above Fury, in another of the modified apartments, Janet Van Dyne and Hank Pym were being housed. Since returning from Vegas, Hank had been kicking himself for not being able to help the others in time, and spent nearly every waking hour trying to make the adjustments to his suit that would have helped back in the fight. Janet had tried to tell him that it was okay, and that nobody held it against him that he didn't fight Hulk. But Pym wasn't hearing it.

Keeping a close eye on them via a number of hidden cameras in the room, Black Widow reclined on her sofa in the room above them, a bowl of blueberries on the table beside her, a laptop sitting across her knees that displayed the various camera angles.

"Doing much better than most of the people who've gone up against The Hulk I suppose."

"Well that's good to hear." Fury massaged the bridge of his nose. "Last thing I need is a couple of traumatized Millennials. Is Barton feeling any better?"

"I think-" Romanov started to answer, until the sound of a flushing toilet from the other room stopped her.

"Hey 'Tasha, we got any wet-wipes?" Hawkeye called out.

She sighed, rolling her eyes. "I think he's just fine. A little banged up from his former co-workers, but the same old Clint."

Nick had to chuckle. Barton and Romanov had know each other for years, and he liked having the two around.

Upstairs, the bathroom door behind Natasha opened, and Barton came out, wearing a pair of jeans and a pale blue t-shirt. He strolled over to her as she spoke and leaned his head down.

"Hey Fury, Clint here."

She put the phone on speaker with the press of a button and held it out.

"What'chu got for me Hawkeye?" Fury said over the line.

"I think you were right about that Richard Fisk kid in Las Vegas. I think he's running the local Hydra operation."

"You think his father's involved?" Nick wondered, knowing that the involvement of the notorious crime boss on the other coast would be a crucial bit of information.

"Not sure." Clint shook his head to no-one in particular. "I've never seen any intel of Kingpin working for Hydra. Doing some business with them off and on sure, but not as one of their flunkies. But his little prince might be a different story; stepping out from pop's wide-ass shadow, make his own bones."

"Thanks Barton. I'll see what else I can get going over there. For now you rest up, I may have another assignment for you sooner rather than later."

"Ah, sure, no problem Fury. It's not like I had anything I wanted to go do."

Romanov put a hand her free hand on Clint's chest and shoved him away.

"Director, have you been keeping-up with the tabloids? That candid cell-phone shot from Vegas showing him in the suit is blowing-up all over the internet."

Shaking his head in frustration, Fury recalled that in the clean-up of the Vegas incident, some civilian had managed to snap a photo of an unmasked Tony Stark. The next day the picture was sold to the highest bidder, and was soon plastered on every tabloid and newspaper in the country. In reaction, Stark had opted to go hide in his tower.

"Yeah I seen it. Damn amateur paparazzi."

"I'm thinking you should send someone over to talk to him. I could do it if you want." Natasha gave a quick glance over to see Hawkeye eating a banana and scratching his crotch as he admired the Atlantic view.

"Not a problem at all."

"Naw, I better go talk to him myself." Being the prima Donna that he his, Fury knew that getting Iron Man back in the game would require some messaging of the ego. "Besides, I need you within arm's reach. There's something about this whole thing just feels off to me."

"As you wish Director, Clint and I will watch the kids."

"It's not a punishment Romanov." He reminded her. "Just a recharge."

Black Widow closed her eyes, "Wherever I am needed Director." She ended the call, and checking to see what her roommate was doing now, saw him practicing some katas. He was having some fun with it, and making exaggerated, jerky movements.

" _теперь я няни троих детей_

* * *

 **STARK TOWER**

In Stark Tower, Tony sat on a leather couch, a tumbler of brown liquid in his hand that rested on his knee. His head was titled back, settled on the headrest, his face relaxed and a trail of drool leaking from he corner of his open mouth onto his shoulder where it soaked into the lavender silk shirt.

"Good morning Sir." chimed the disembodied voice of JARVIS over the many obscured speakers installed in the room. Tony opened his eyes halfway to see the rising sun greeting him as it peeked over the horizon. And he looked down to see that he was not wearing pants.

"Ugh, what time is it?" Stark begged as he used his glass-holding hand to shield his eyes from the harshness of direct sunlight.

"It is three minutes past six, Sir."

"In the evening?" looking around at his surroundings, Tony noticed that his living room was a total mess, his liquor cabinet nearly empty and his slacks draped over the 70-ince flat screen.

"In the morning." JARVIS corrected. "Shall I prepare breakfast?"

"In the morning? Good god." Peeling himself from the couch, Stark put the glass down on the floor and put the other hand across his forehead. With no small effort he walked over to the nearest mirror and gave himself a good look-over. His shave was two days late, his hair looked like a rat's nest, large colored bags hung under his eyes, and he just generally looked like hell. Not to mention the aches and bruises that made themselves known as he stretched.

"Yeah… JARVIS, start up some breakfast and some aspirin."

"Right away Sir."

While the automated kitchen whirred to life on the other side of the room, Tony grabbed the remote control and meandered back towards the television, mumbling to himself.

"The hell was I so broke up about anyways?"

Standing in front of the screen, he grabbed the pants and flung them aside. He aimed the remote and pressed the power button. The first station that came on was one of the national news channels, featuring a picture of himself.

" _…seen here in the aftermath of the disaster in Las Vegas, Tony Stark is in fact the mysterious Iron Man, much to the shock and bewilderment of many who wrote him off after his return from his ordeal in Afghanistan. New reports-"_

Shutting the television back off, he stood there staring at the blank screen.

"Oh yeah."

"Sir, are we expecting a visit from any former employees today?"

The question struck Tony as odd, and he scratched his head trying to think if he had scheduled anything today.

"No….. I don't think so…"

Down on the street, a man marched through traffic. His armored tech-suit was dark blue over black, and brimmed with neon blue lines across the plates. On his head, the helmet was studded with four red optics that analyzed sensory data. Pedestrians hurried out of his way, and cars screeched to a halt as he strode purposefully through traffic. One taxi cab was skidding on its breaks when the man reached his left hand out to the side, and cast a beam of blue energy into it's engine block. The beam encased the entire front of the vehicle in a block of ice, freezing it to the asphalt.

Blizzard was on a mission.

Stepping to the side of Stark Tower, he aimed his fists down at an angle, and began blasting his ice-beams.

"JARVIS!" Tony yelled, watching the drop-down monitor which showed the satellite feed of a man ascending the side of the tower on an ice-rocket.

"How's the new suit coming?!"

"Putting it together now sir."

Quickly, Stark looked around the room, deciding what objects could be useful or not.

"What could be handy…. Let me see… let me see…"

The wall spanning window behind him shattered, and turning on a pivot, Tony watched as Blizzard glided in through the broken pane on an ice slide.

"STARK!"

As soon as the villain spoke the word, a glass bottle of water struck his faceplate and shattered, the water freezing on contact.

"Usually my guests are a little more polite Donny!" Tony called out from behind a counter, hurling more miscellaneous objects in the invaders direction. "And they're usually women!"

Shielding himself from the small assault and smashing off the ice stuck to his face, Blizzard lashed out wildly with a beam, cutting a swath of spiking frost across the apartment.

"Ever since Iron Man locked me away, I've been waiting to get my revenge!"

He intercepted another container of water with his beam and the weight pulled it down before striking.

"But now the whole world knows who you really are! AND WE KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE! RAAAAAAHHHH!"

With a scream and a heave, Blizzard poured both hands towards the counter where Tony hid behind. The space was covered in a chunk of ice feet thick within seconds.

"Come on out Stark! I wanna get to know the real you!"

Stomping around the corner of the bar, Blizzard moved to pounce on the trapped hero, and found nothing.

"What?!"

Behind the counter, the ice had formed a wall of spikes that would have skewered anybody hiding there, but Stark was gone.

On the story directly below, the portrait of Tony and his parents lifted up to allow him to shoot through the passageway in the wall, and land on his bed with a bounce.

"I knew putting that slide in was a great idea." He said, heart racing as he climbed over his plush bedding towards the wall.

"JARVIS, the suit?"

"Waiting on you Sir."

Rushing over the wall space beside a dresser, Tony laid his hand on the paint, and where his skin made contact, the surface illuminated with a soft blue glow. The door panels slid away from each other along a seam, and within the alcove, an Iron Man suit rotated to face him.

"Just my size."

Upstairs, Blizzard thrashed in every direction. "WHERE ARE YOU STARK!?" He screamed, using his cryonic beam to throw the couch against the wall. "I'LL BRING THIS WHOLE PLACE DOWN IF I HAVE TO!"

The floor underneath Blizzard exploded, and he was sent crashing into the ceiling. He came back down in a heap, groaning from the sudden disorientation. Hovering up from the newly created gap, Iron Man looked down at him.

"You've overstayed your welcome Gill! Let me show you the door!"

Surging forward, Iron Man tackled the rising Blizzard around his waist, and drove him through the wall behind into the open air. The pair arced downward towards the ground, the freezing hands latched onto the back of the armor.

"They'll have to chisel you out of that armor Stark!"

"Dammit Gill! Haven't you ever heard about the _scorpion and the frog_?"

"The hell are you talking about?"

As the ice sunk into the suits components, the thrusters shut down, leaving them both in a free-fall.

Onlookers on the street watched on, some covering their mouths in astonishment, as the two plummeted straight into the roof of an office building. They crashed through the ceiling and into a room filled with copy machines. Blizzard slowly turned over, groaning and whimpering from the internal injuries. Iron Man was first to his feet, but could only move in a jerky manner.

"Sir, some of the plates are still frozen to each other. I'm heating the affected components now." JARVIS informed him.

"Oh is that it JARVIS? I thought it was the gum I stuck in there."

"Gonna.. Ugh… tear you apart!" crawling on his hands and knees, Blizzard coughed and grunted sharply. But Iron Man trudged over, and grabbed into the back of Blizzard's helmet.

"This tech is mine by the way." Stark said before applying the other hand and ripping the device in half and throwing the pieces aside.

In a final outburst of energy, Blizzard reached up and gripped Iron Man's helm in both hands. He snarled at the emotionless faceplate, spittle flying from his mouth as he cursed his enemy.

"You ruined my life Tony Stark! And I'm gonna take-!"

Blizzard's diatribe was cut off by a Unibeam blast at point-blank range. Donny Gill was sent careening through several machines and embedded himself in the wall.

"You're gonna take your thievin'-ass back to jail." Tony said, watching Blizzard's head hang limp. Several small pieces of ice fell from crevices in the armor, and it was now that he noticed the little streams of water cascading down to the floor.

"The armor has been successfully de-iced sir." remarked JARVIS casually.

Popping open the faceplate, Tony looked around at all the damage that had been incurred.

"JARVIS, figure out who all the stuff belongs to and cut'em a check. Also, contact SHIELD, let them know I got another rat for their cage."

"Doing it now Sir."

"Oh, and one more thing please?" Stark massaged the bridge of his nose, mentally flogging himself for not thinking of it sooner.

"Do let me know if there are any more psychotic criminals who hate me that are out walking around."

"Where would you like me to start?"

The thought was not a comforting one for Iron Man.

* * *

 **THE VAULT**

 _What am I going to do with my life?_

 _What kind of life do I even have left?_

Sitting on his bunk in the cell, Bruce Banner contemplated the same notions he had been doing for the past two days.

He had disappeared months ago, and in his place a monster had hijacked his body. The last thing he recalled clearly, was pushing the young man out of the way and into the ditch, then the explosion of the Gamma bomb, and then…

Patches of memory was all he had between now and then, vague shapes and fevered images of seeing the world through the eyes of the Hulk. Fighting the military, trekking through wilderness, a bizarre throng of bright lights, these and more were mashed together in an incoherent train of thoughts. It was like being in the mind of an animal, or a primitive hominoid, just instincts and urges with only the faintest glimpse of rational thought.

It had been an exhausting, terrifying ordeal, and Bruce knew that there were a lot of people who were demanding answers for the Hulk.

"Dr. Banner?"

The voice was from the same doctor who checked on him every day. Another probe for responsiveness, perhaps by now they were wondering if he could even hear them.

" _A sensory diagnostic would make sense"._ Bruce thought, trying to imagine what the SHIELD scientists might be thinking. _"I would examine the subject for any signs of abnormal bodily functions, draw blood and fluid samples, test for residual Gamma radiation… Is this containment unit calibrated to prevent leakage?"_

"Dr. Banner, I have a guest here to see you."

 _Another guest? Maybe SHIELD is finally opening the door for all the interested parties. The D.O.D. would want their own inspection done, bring in their own personnel._

"Bruce?"

At the sound of a new voice Banner finally stirred, lifting his head to the figure on the other side of the glass. Despite the protest of his neck and shoulders at the new angle, he couldn't help but stare dumbfounded, his face and hands trembling to be in the presence of Elizabeth Ross once again.

"Betty?" He said in a raspy throat, ignoring the hasty note-taking of the man who stood a few feet to her rear. He could only focus on her, in this facility of the dangerous and villainous, she was all that existed. Dressed in a simple knee-length brown skirt, and a white collared shirt, tears flowed down her face.

"Oh god Bruce… What happened to you?" She put one palm on the glass, and the other reflexively covered her mouth in shock and despair.

For several moments they simply gazed at one another, until he slowly lifted himself off the bunk and strode towards her.

"Betty… the Gamma-bomb… it, it did something to me. I don't know how to explain it, but it turned me into… that monster."

Collapsing against his side of the glass, Bruce put his own hand to hers, his eyes not deviating from hers. "I don't understand what happened to me!"

"My father tried to capture you, but you kept getting away." She told him with a quivering voice. "We couldn't figure out a way to fix you."

"And that's when SHIELD stepped in…" Bruce trailed off, considering how his condition had gotten to this point. During his incarceration the doctors had described to him the events that resulted in his arrest; a specially designed team of people with powers and abilities had been deployed, and only through the deus ex machina of someone claiming to be the Norse god of Thunder did they succeed.

"You're sick Bruce." She continued, breaking into his thoughts. "And until we find out how to cure you, they have to keep you here."

"But I can help them!" he exclaimed, raising to his feet, "No one knows the science behind what happened better than I do! Tell them I can help!"

"No Bruce." Betty said sadly but sternly. "You could turn back into that thing at any time until we understand it more. For your sake and everyone else's, you have to stay in there."

"No! No, Betty you can't let them do this!" Banner struck his fist against the surface. "What if they learn how to re-create this thing? How to control it!"

"Well that would be interesting, wouldn't it?"

Another voice, this one low and methodical surprised Bruce Banner. Mostly so because it sounded like it was coming from inside the cell.

Bruce spun around, and gaped at the sight of a tall man standing in the center of the room. He was dressed strangely, a long dark green robe with golden trim over what looked line fine linen of a matching color scheme. Long black hair cascaded downwards from underneath a golden helmet, from which grew a pair of long, curved antlers. He stood with his hands behind his back, and what drew Bruce's attention the most, was the set of bright green eyes that stared back at him.

"Who…. Who are you?" Banner stammered, "How'd you get in here?"

"Bruce?" Worried, Betty looked past him to try and see who he was talking too, but there was just empty space. She glanced back at the SHILED scientist who had ceased taking notes to likewise watch with confusion.

Instead of answering him, the man simply stared back at Bruce, a small grin was all the expression he spared.

"Bruce who are you talking to?" Betty asked again.

"You don-" Turning to her, Banner searched her face for confirmation, but to his dismay found only bewilderment. He gestured an arm to where the stranger stood, casting a finger.

"Betty don't you see him? He's standing right there! With the horns!"

"Bruce what are you talking about? There's no one else in there!"

"What…" A sudden wave of exhaustion came over him, and Bruce leaned back into the glass wall, sliding down until he came to sit on the floor, his hands on his head. "Am I hallucinating?" He asked himself.

"Perhaps you are." The man spoke with a hint of speculation. "Perhaps you are not."

Panting with anxiety, Banner put the side of his face against the glass, "Betty, help me please."

Too stunned to form a response, she backed away from the cell, raising both hands to cover her mouth.

"A pity you don't recognize me Dr Banner, for I have been with you for some time." The figure took a single, measured step forward.

"I've never seen you before in my life." Banner cried back, earning a gasp from the onlookers. "Who are you!?"

The man brought his hands into view, holding them palm out.

"I am he, whose whim will bring Asgard crashing down. I am he, whose tongue in an anvil where the sharpest lies are forged. I am he, and I have things to say that you must know.

I am Loki, who you must not trust."


End file.
